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THE   A  M  A70NS    ''arce  k*  Three  Acts.    Seven  males,  fire  females. 
ULi  AUIAL,    i"\j    Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  not  difficult.    Plays 
a  full  evening. 

) 

THE  r  A  RIVET  MINTCTED  Farce  in  Four  Acts.  Ten  males,  nine 
mC  CA01KC1  imaiCK  females>  costumes,  modern  society; 

scenei  y,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

DANDY  DICK  Farce  k*  Tllree  Acts.  Seven  males,  four  females. 
VAlWf  1  VIVA  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  Plays 
two  hours  and  a  half. 

THE  fiAY  TA9I)  flITFY  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Four  males,  ten 
111C  UA1  t,VHW  yUKA  femaleg  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery, 

two  interiors  and  an  exterior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

H1C  HAfTCC  IV  ADDED    Comedy  in  Four  Acts.   Nine  males,  four 

fllb  nUUMJ  1H  UKlHiK  Co8tumes>  modern.  iscenery> 


three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  HARRY  HAfi^P    Comedy  in  Three  Acts.    Ten  males,  five 
1I1C  UVDDI   1IUH3C    femalea    Costumes,  modern;  scenery  easy. 

Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

Drama  in  Five  Acts.    Seven  males,  seven  females.    Costumes, 
modern  ;  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 


I  AHY  RATTNTIFITr     PI*y  k*  Four  Acts.    Eight  males,  seven  fe- 
L,AV1  ITtl»    male8-    Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  four  in 

teriors,  not  easy     Plays  a  full  evening. 

I  FTTY    I^8111*  k1  ^°'ar  Acts  and  an  Epilogue.    Ten  males,  five  fe- 
^  males.    Costumes,  modern  ;  acenery  complicated.    Plays  a 

full  evening. 


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fatter  f  *  isafeeu  &  Company 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


OUR  BOYS  OF  1776 


ONE     HUNDRED    YEARS    AGO 


Patriotic  Drama  in  (Ctoo  3cts 


BY 

GEO.  M.  BAKKK 

AITTHOR    OF    "AMONG    TMK    BRKAKKKS,"    "NKVADA,"    "KI 

TRH'MI'II."     II.. 


COPYRIGHT,  1876,  BY  <;i<>.  M.    |!AKRR 
COPYRIGHT,   n/)^,   BY   KMII.Y   K.   HAKKK  (IN   KKNKWAI.) 


BOSTON 

WALTICR   II.    H. \KI-K    &  CO. 


HANDY  DRAMAS 

FOR    AMATEU  R    ACTORS 
NEW  PIECES 

FOR 

l^ome,  Sdjool  anti  public  Entertainment 

BY 

GEORGE  M.  BAKER 


•fflluetratefc 


CONTAINIATG 


THE  FLOWER  OF  THE  FAMILY 


PADDLE  YOUR  OWN  CANOE 


A  MYSTERIOUS  DISAPPEARANCE    ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO 


ABOVE  THE  CLOUDS 


THE  LITTLE  BROWN  JUG 
SEEING  THE  ELEPHANT 


COPYRIGHT,  1876,  BY  GHORGK  M.  BAKER 
COPYRIGHT,  1904,  BY  EMILY  F.  BAKER  (IN  RENEWAL) 


PS 


ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

OR,   OUR  BOYS  OF  1776. 
A  PATRIOTIC  DRAMA  IN  TWO  ACTS. 


CHARACTERS. 

OBED  STERLING,  a  Quaker. 

EPHRAIM  STERLING,  his  Son. 

ELMER  GRANGER,  a  Young  Patriot. 

URIEL  BOSWORTH,  a  Quaker  Convert. 

PRETZEL,  a  Dutchman. 

GINGER,  a  Negro. 

BURKE,        )    _ 

BLUCHER,   i   Tone8' 

RACHEL  STERLING,  the  Quaker  Mother. 

RUTH  STERLING,  her  Daughter. 

PRUDENCE  GRANGER,  Elmer's  Sister. 

The  scene  of  the  drama  is  near  Philadelphia,  July  4,  1776. 


COSTUMES. 

OBED.  Black,  brown,  or  gray  Quaker  suit;  white  hair,  parted 
in  centre;  long  stockings,  to  match  suit;  plain  black  shoes; 
broad-brimmed  hat. 

HOSWORTH  and  EPHRAIM.  Quaker  suits  of  same  character,  but 
differing  in  color  or  in  the  color  of  stockings.  Bosworth  has 
hlark  hair, 'parted  in  middle;  Ephraim  a  very  light  wig,  parted 
in  the  middle,  with  hair  slightly  curly  at  ends. 

217 


1105795 


218  ONE  HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO. 

ELMER.  Neat  suit  of  continental  fashion ;  brown  coat;  buff  vest- 
white  necktie;  brown  breeches;  blue  stockings;  shoes  with 
buckles;  cocked  hat. 

PRETZEL.  Brown  trunks,  or  full  trousers  fastened  at  the  knee; 
blue  stockings;  short  brown  coat;  small  Dutch  cap,  or  knit 
woollen  cap  with  tassel  at  end. 

GINGER.  Gray  breeches;  red  stockings;  blue  striped  shirt;  red 
waistcoat,  open ;  grizzled  wig ;  heavy  shoes. 

BLUCHER  and  BURKE.  Brown  coats;  red  waistcoats;  dark 
breeches;  brown  or  gray  stockings;  shoes  without  buckles. 

MRS.  STERLING.     Gray    dress;    white    kerchief,    neatly    pinned 

-  across  bosom ;  Quaker  cap. 

RUTH.  Brown  or  gray  dress,  opening  in  front,  showing  white 
skirt,  rather  short;  long  sleeves;  high  neck;  white  hose,  and 
black  shoes;  hair  light,  in  Grecian  knot. 

PRUDENCE.  Short  patch  petticoat,  with  looped  overskirt  and 
waist  of  red  material ;  sleeves  rolled  up  in  first  act,  and  apron 
on;  hair  done  up  high  with  large  comb;  sleeves  turned  down 
for  second  act. 

The  Quaker  costumes  may  be  hard  to  obtain,  but  can  easily  be 
manufactured.  For  hats,  cover  wide-rimmed  straw  hats  with 
brown  or  gray  cambric,  "  wrong-side  "  out.  For  coats,  "  stand 
up"  the  collars  of  any  old-fashioned  dark  coats,  to  give  a  prim 
and  stiff  appearance.  The  balance  can  easily  be  obtained.  Guns 
used  in  this  piece  should  have  the  appearance  of  flint-locks. 


STAGE    DIRECTIONS. 

R.,  right;  c.,  centre;  L.,  left;  L  c.,  left  centre;  R.  c.,  right  cen 
tre;  L.  1  E.,  left  first  entrance;  R.  IE.,  right  first  entrance;  FLAT, 
scene  at  back  of  stage;  R.  u.  E.,  right  upper  entrance. 


ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

OB, 

OUR   BOYS   OF   1T76. 


A   PATRIOTIC  DRAMA   IN  TWO  ACTS. 

ACT  I.  —  MORNING.  Kitchen  in  Obed  Sterling's  house. 
Door  in  flat  R.  c.  Window  in  flat  L.  c.,  with  muslin 
curtain  draped.  Fireplace  R.,  withjire  burning,  <md 
teakettle  hanging  on  crane.  Door  or  entrance  L.  IE., 
R.  IE.,  and  R.  u.  E.  Settle  R.,  between  flre  and 
door.  (If  this  cannot  be  easily  procured,  form  one 
by  placing  two  wooden  chairs  side  by  side,  and  cover 
with  cotton  cloth.)  L.  c.,  near  window,  tub  on  wooden 
bench,  partly  filled  with  suds  and  white  clothes,  dish 
of  soft  soap  on  bench,  clothes-basket  and  pail  on 
floor  beside  tab.  Table  L.,  against  scene,  chair  11.  of 
it.  Add  any  old-fashioned  things,  such  as  KJ >in nhnj- 
wheel,  churn,  &c.,  that  may  be  procurable,  and  place 
out  of  the  way  at  R.  or  L.  As  the  curtain  •>•/*• .--. 
drum  and  fife  are  heard  playing  "  Yankee  Do<><ll>  '' 
outside,  gradually  dying  away  in  the  distance.  PRU 
DENCE  discovered  at  window,  holding  back  curtain, 
and  looking  out. 

219 


220  ONE  HUNDRED  TEARS  AGO  ; 

Prudence.  There  they  go.  Bless  their  true,  loyal 
hearts  !  I  wish  King  George  could  only  see  them.  He'd 
need  but  one  look  at  their  stout  forms  and  brave  faces  to 
teach  him  that  all  the  Stamp  Acts  in  creation  couldn't 
stamp  out  the  grit  that's  ground  into  every  mother's  soji 
that  has  rolled  in  this  rugged  soil.  (  Turns  to  tub,  and 
washes  briskly.)  I'm  glad  to  see  this  sojering  here.  It 
did  look  for  a  while  as  though  the  Tories  were  going  to 
have  it  all  their  own  way  ;  but  the  patriots  have  woke 
up,  and  I  reckon  there'll  be  lively  times  here.  It  takes 
me  right  back  to  dear  old  Concord,  and  the  day  the 
British  came  up  to  surprise  us.  The  drum  and  fife 
played  to  some  purpose  then.  They  came  and  found  us 
ready,  and  the  getting  back  a  pesky  sight  harder  than 
the  coming.  It  was  a  sad  day  for  us.  Father  fell 
among  the  first.  Our  old  house  was  burned  to  the 
ground  ;  and  mother  (it  sickens  me  to  think  of  it)  was 
butchered  by  a  coward.  And,  but  for  nrv  brave  brother, 
I  —  I —  (Puts  hands  to  her  eyes.)  Dear  me  !  I've 
filled  my  eyes  with  suds.  I  won't  think  of  that  fearful 
scene.  Many  homes  must  be  blasted  before  the  tyrant 
can  be  made  to  feel  he  is  powerless  to  enslave  a  people 
roused  to  a  sense  of  their  wrongs.  Come,  Prudence, 
chirk  up.  There's  bluing  enough  in  your  tub ;  so 
don't  you  get  the  blues.  (Sings  air  "  Yankee 
Doodle.") 

"  Father  and  I  went  down  to  camp, 

Along  of  Capt.  Tooding; 
And  there  we  saw  the  men  and  boys, 
As  thick  as  hasty  pudding." 

(Enter  PRETZEL  door  in  flat,  with  pipe  in  his  mouth- 


OK,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  221 

leans  against  door-post,  and  smokes  while  she  is  sing* 
ing  the  chorus. ) 

"  Yankee  doodle,  keep  it  up, 

Yankee  doodle  dandy; 
Mind  the  music  and  the  steps, 
And  with  the  girls  be  handy." 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  dot  is  goot.  Miss  Prudence,  vash 
you  dare  ? 

Prudence.     Yes,  Mr.  Pretzel,  I  wash  here. 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  I  hear  you  sing  soraetings.  You  hear 
der  droms  and  der  fifes  ven  der  play  'long  mit  der 
music  ? 

Prudence.  Hear  them?  I  should  think  so.  That 
tune  should  wake  the  spirit  of  every  man  who  loves  his 
country. 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  dot  is  so.  It  vake  me  right  up  from 
mine  shleep,  and  I  feel  so  mad  dot  I  moost  do  some- 
tings  right  avay  pretty  quick. 

Prudence.  For  your  country?  You  have  a  noble 
spirit,  Mr.  Pretzel. 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  spirit  is  goot.  I  moost  do  sometings  : 
so  I  call  mine  man  Yawcup  to  go  right  avay  and  get 
me  — 

Prudence.     Your  gun.     I  see,  noble  Pretzel. 

Pretzel.  Right  avay  down  cellar,  and  draw  mine 
peer. 

Prudence.     Pshaw !  you've  got  no  patriotism. 

Pretzel.  Batriotism.  I  donno  vhat  you  mean  by 
dot ;  but  I  be  got  der  pest  peer  — 

Prudence.     Is  this  the  time  to  think  of  beer? 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  der  ish  no  time  dot  ever  vas  to  coine 
pefore  dot  I  do  not  tink  of  mine  peer. 


ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Prudence.     'Tis  out  of  place  now. 

Pretzel.  Nein :  'tis  in  der  keg  onder  de  stairs,  first 
on  der  right  as  you  go  town  mit  der  left. 

Prudence.  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  about 
your  beer. 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  Veil,  I  haf  else  sometings  dot  will 
blease  you  (sits  on  settle) ,  —  sometings  dot  make  me 
so  shtupid  dot  I  can't  shut  mine  eyes  vhen  I  haf  gone 
to  shleep  mit  mine  ped.  Dot  is  you,  fraulein.  I  loaf 
you. 

Prudence  (with  clothes  in  her  hands,  starts  back :  very 
loud).  What? 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  I  loaf  you  petter  dan  sourkraut, 
petter  dan  mine  peer.  Ven  I  tink  of  you  mit  your 
pright  eyes,  my  heart  joomp  right  out  of  mine  mout, 
and  peats  droomsticks  mit  1113"  posom. 

Prudence  (snapping  her  teeth,  and  wringing  out  a 
sheet).  It  does,  does  it? 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  So  I  get  run  ofer  from  mine  house 
to  get  you  for  mine  frau.  So  }'ou  comes  mit  me,  and 
be  mine  frau,  and  you  shall  vash  all  der  day  mit  your 
tub,  —  all  mine  close  dot  never  haf  peen  vashed  at  all 
some  moi'C. 

Prudence  (who  has  twisted  a  wet  sheet  into  a  weapon) . 
Mr.  Pretzel,  do  you  see  that  door? 

Pretzel  (looks  round  at  door  without  rising).  Yaw  ; 
dot  is  a  goot  toor. 

Prudence  (comes  down  stage) .  Then  instantly  take 
yourself  outside  of  it. 

Pretzel.     Mit  you,  fraulein? 

Prudence    (strikes  pipe  from  his  mouth   tvith    her 


OR,  OUR   BOYS  OF  1776. 

weapon).  Never,  you  mean,  contemptible,  cowardly 
Dutchman ! 

Pretzel  (jumping  up).  Vhat  for  you  smash  mine 
pipe?  You  vant  to  proke  mine  heart  mit  your  non 
sense  ? 

Prudence.  I'll  break  your  head  if  you're  not  out  of 
this  house  quick.  (Flourishing  her  weapon.)  Go  ! 

Pretzel.  Keep  avay  !  I'll  bring  you  tarnages  mit  a 
court ;  and  I'll  nefer  come  back  here  some  more. 

Prudence.  If  you  do,  I'll  scald  3rou.  (  Tfircnti'tti/ifj. ) 
Go! 

Pretzel  (at  door).  Yaw.  May  I  nefer  hope  to  die 
if  I  do.  (Exit  door  in  flat.) 

Prudence  (returns  to  tub).  Was  there  ever  such  im 
pudence?  Ha,  ha,  ha!  I've  found  a  lover  at  la-t. 
Poor  old  Pretzel  wants  a  frau.  "  You  come  mit  inc." 
Ha,  ha,  ha!  I  needn't  die  an  old  maid;  but  it  will 
certainly  be  my  last  chance  when  I  consent  to  become 
Frau  Pretzel.  (  Wrings  out  clothes,  and  /)///*  fix  m  in 
basket.  GINGER  heard  outside  whistling  "  }'tink<c. 
Doodle."  He  throws  open  door,  and  marches  dim-ii 
stage  to  front,  still  whistling ;  has  a  heavy  stick  of  wood 
at  "shoulder-arms.") 

Ginger  (marking  time) .  Ker-ker-kerumpany  —  ten 
sion.  Halt !  order  —  hams  !  (Lets  stick  down  upon  his 
toe;  drops  it,  seizes  foot  with  both  hands,  hops  </< •/•«*.<< 
stage  on  one  foot  howling,  drops  into  chair,  L.)  Wh- 
wli-wliat  do  infusion  in  de  ranks?  Whooh  ! — dar's  a 
halt  in  de  confield  sure's  you  bawn. 

Prudence.     Ginger,  where  on  earth  have  you  been? 

Ginger.   Hm?    Dat  you,  Miss  Prudence  ?  Been  HO\MI 


224  ONE  HUNDRED   YEARS   AGO; 

wid  de  sojers  onto  de  —  de  pomade  ground,  you  ki»ow, 
down  de  cow-pastur.  Lots  of  'em  down  dar,  and  so 
fine.  Oh,  golty !  Dar  was  Gunnel  Stuffin  — 

Prudence.     No,  no,  Ginger :    Col.  Griffin. 
'   Ginger.    Hm  ?    Wai,  he  had  stuffin  miff  in  his  buzzum 
to  fill  a  bolster.     Den  dar  was  Capn  —  Capn  Gingham. 

Prudence.     Oh,  no,  Ginger  !   Capt.  Ingram. 

Ginger.  Yas,  dat  what  I  said, — Cap'n  Gingham. 
He  was  dressed  up  fine,  he  was.  He  had  a  big  shut  — 
shut  — •-  shut  —  two  on  his  head  ;  an'  —  an'  —  an'  —  a 
yaller  flume  stuck  into  it ;  an'  —  an'  —  a  red  crash 
round  his  waist ;  an'  —  an'  —  a  napkin  on  his  back  ; 
an'  —  an'  —  a  partridge-box  fastened  onto  his  side. 
Golly  !  he  jes  as  proud  as  —  as  —  a  rooster  in  de  barn 
yard.  Lots  dere,  Miss  Prudence.  I  wanted  to  jine, 
but  dey  wouldn't  let  me.  Said  'twould  spoil  my  com 
plex.  Dey  was  going  to  trabble  in  de  sun,  and  I'd  get 
tanned.  If  some  of  dem  fellows  don't  get  tanned, 
den  shoot  me. 

Prudence.  It  is  a  grand  rising.  I've  seen  many 
such  down  East. 

Ginger.  Down  Yeast !  Yas,  dat's  de  }-east  dat  sets 
de  whole  country  rising. 

Prudence.     Come,  Ginger,  help  me  with  the  basket. 

Ginger  (rising).  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure  !  (Limx>s.) 
Have  jes'  about  smashed  dat  ere  hoof  (feels  of  heel)  ; 
but  de  vital  part  am  safe.  (Enter  MRS.  STERLING 
R.  u.  E.,  with  knitting  in  her  hands.) 

Mrs.  S.  Has  thee  nearly  finished  thy  washing,  Pru 
dence  ? 

Prudence.  Yes.  The  last  basketful  is  just  going 
oat. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OP  1776.  225 

Mrs.  S.  Thee  is  a  smart  girl,  Prudence,  and  a 
good  one. 

Prudence.  And  you  are  a  good,  kind  friend  to  me  ; 
for  when  I  had  no  home,  out  of  love  for  my  mother, 
who  had  left  the  Friends  to  marry  my  father,  you 
called  me  to  you,  and  comforted  me  in  my  sorrow 
with  loving  words  and  kind  acts. 

Mrs.  S.  Child,  thee  has  repaid  us  a  thousand-fold. 
Thy  hands  are  skilful,  th}'  feet  active,  thy  whole  soul  is 
in  thy  work,  and  thy  singing  and  laughter  sunshine  in 
our  sober  house. 

Ginger.  Dat's  so,  missus ;  she  de  sunshine  in  de 
garden  too.  De  roses  blush  wid  pleasure  when  she 
skips  along  de  paths  ;  an'  —  an'  —  de  great  proud 
sunflowers  look  ashamed  of  demselves  for  being  so 
ugly  looking ;  an'  —  an'  de  inyuns  waft  de  fragrance  ; 
an'  —  an'  — 

Prudence.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Ginger,  you  are  too  ro 
mantic. 

Ginger.  Got  a  little  touch  of  de  rumatics  when  dat 
ar  stick  dropped. 

Prudence.  Come,  we  shall  not  get  the  clothes  out 
to-day.  (Takes  handle  of  basket.) 

Ginger  (takes  other  side  of  basket).  Say,  Miss 
Prudence,  why  am  we  —  us,  you  and  me  —  like  twin*? 

Pnidence.     Can't  guess  that,  Ginger. 

Ginger.  Kase  —  kase  —  kase  we's  so  clothesly 
united.  See?  Yah,  yah,  yah!  Dat's  a  conundci- 
done. 

/'nidence.     It's  overdone,  Ginger;  we  must  find  a 
dividing  line  somewhere. 
15 


226  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Ginger.  We'll  hab  to  trabble  from  pole  to  pole  to 
find  it.  Yah,  yah,  yah !  (Exeunt  PRUDJ  KCE  and 
GINGER,  with  basket,  door  in  F.) 

Mrs.  S.  (sitting  on  settle,  and  knitting).  She's  a 
deai-  good  girl,  though  she  does  plague  the  Friends 
with  her  plain  talk  on  equal  rights  and  liberty.  The}- 
call  her  a  firebrand :  but  I  like  her  all  the  better  for 
that.  She  is  a  spark  thrown  up  by  the  great  fire  of 
patriotism  which  roared  so  grandly  at  Concord,  fallen 
here  to  kindle  a  fresh  blaze  for  liberty.  Ah,  Rachel ! 
thee  is  a  little  treacherous  to  thy  faith.  The  Friends 
counsel  peace ;  but  I  fear  thy  heart  is  with  the  op 
pressed.  (Enter,  door  in  flat,  OBED  STERLING,  followed 
by  Bos  WORTH.) 

Obed.  What  thee  says  may  be  true,  Friend  Bos- 
worth  ;  but  the  Friends  counsel  neutrality  in  these 
troublous  daj-s. 

Bosivortli.  Nay,  nay  ;  the  Friends  are  wrong.  We 
must  take  side  in  the  coming  struggle.  Thee  knows 
the  rebels  are  in  council  now  in  the  city,  have  already 
framed  a  declaration  of  independence  which  to-day 
will  be  adopted.  Their  harangues  are  loud  and  bitter. 
They  hurl  defiance  at  our  good  Friend  George,  who  is 
the  rightful  owner  of  this  soil.  We  must  be  just  to 
him. 

Mrs.  S.  Though  he  be  unjust  to  us.  Thinkest  thou 
this  would  be  the  advice  of  Friend  William  Penn,  who 
bought  this  land  of  Friend  George,  and  gave  it  to  us 
as  a  refuge  from  oppressors  ? 

Obed.  Naj-  nay,  Rachel ;  thee  must  not  counsel 
opposition.  We  are  Friends.  If  our  enemy  smite  us 
on  the  right  cheek,  we  must  turn  to  him  the  left. 


OR,  ODE  BOYS  OF  1776. 

Mrs.  S.  Verily,  Obed,  thee  speaks  not  the  words 
of  soberness.  When  the  tax-gatherer  did  smite  thee 
on  the  cheek,  thee  did  turn  upon  him  with  thy  fist,  and 
smite  him  to  the  ground. 

Obed.  Nay,  speak  not  of  that,  Rachel.  I  did  for 
get  myself. 

Mrs.  S.  Then  let  thy  memory  be  treacherous  again 
on  the  side  of  right  and  justice. 

Obed.  Nay,  nay,  it  must  not  be.  I  should  set  a 
bad  example  to  son  Ephraim,  who  is  strongly  imbued 
with  the  principles  of  peace ;  and  daughter  Ruth  — 
where  is  the  child  ? 

Mrs.  S.     I  left  her  at  her  window  tending  plants. 

Obed.  Thee  had  better  go  to  her.  I  thought  I  saw 
her,  as  I  came  in,  with  her  eyes  fastened  upon  the 
warlike  evolutions  of  the  rebels  beyond.  I  fear  the 
plants  will  be  neglected. 

Mrs.  S.  I  will  send  her  to  thee  and  Friend  Bos- 
worth.  (Exit  R.  u.  E.) 

Obed.  Sit  thee  down,  Friend  Bosworth  (sits  on 
settle) . 

Bosworth  (takes  chair  from  table,  and  sits  c.). 
Friend  Obed,  thy  daughter  is  a  comely  damsel,  and 
fair  to  look  upon. 

Obed.  Yea,  she  is  like  the  best  fruits  of  my  orchard, 
—  fair  and  rosy  to  the  eye,  sound  and  wholesome  to 
the  core. 

Bosworth.     Thee    will    not   think    me    presuming, 
Obed ;   for  thee  has  been  very  kind  to  me.     When  I 
came  to  thee  a  stranger,  thee  did  use  th}T  influence  with 
the  Friends,  and  made  me  one  of  thy  sect. 
a 


228       ONE  HUNDRED  YEAKS  AGO  ; 

Obed.  Yea,  thee  was  a  stranger,  —  one  who  had 
fled  from  persecution  in  Massachusetts,  because  thee 
would  not  join  the  unrighteous  rebels  in  their  oppo 
sition  to  Friend  George.  Yea,  I  did  stand  thy  friend. 

Bosworth.  Thee  can  stand  my  friend  again,  if  thee 
but  choose.  I  love  thy  daughter  Ruth. 

Obed.     Thee  —  thee  love  nrv  daughter  ! 

Bosworth,  Yea,  Friend  Obed  ;  give  her  to  me,  and 
thee  will  never  regret  it. 

Obed.  If  daughter  Ruth  saith  Yea  to  thy  petition, 
thee  will  find  me  thy  friend ;  but  she  shall  make  her 
own  free  choice. 

Bosivorth.  Hearken,  Friend  Obed.  In  a  few  days 
this  place  will  be  filled  with  British  soldiers.  Only 
the  friends  of  Friend  George  will  be  free  from  molesta 
tion.  Should  thee  remain  neutral,  thy  fine  place 
will  be  despoiled,  thy  gold  seized,  thyself  and  thy 
friends  be  left  homeless.  Thee  should  prepare  for 
this. 

Obed.     Prepare !     How  ? 

Bosworth.  Make  friends  with  the  agents  of  Friend 
George.  Offer  thy  services  to  assist  in  breaking  down 
this  unhallowed  rebellion. 

Obed.  Offer  my  services  !  Don't  thee  forget  I  am 
a  Friend,  —  forbidden  to  bear  arms? 

Bosworth.  Thee  need  not,  Friend  Obed,  bear  arms. 
There  are  other  ways  in  which  thee  can  aid.  I  am 
in  the  service  of  Friend  George. 

Obed.     Thee,  Friend  Bosworth? 

Boswortli.  Yea.  When  his  soldiers  come,  I  shall 
pass  in  a  list  of  the  loyal  and  the  rebellious.  The 


OR,  OUR   ROYS  OF   !77fi.  229 

properly  of  the  rebels  will  be  seized.  The  loyal  will 
still  hold  their  own. 

Obed.     Bos  worth,  thee  is  a  spy. 

Bosivorth.  Thee  gives  my  poor  services  a  hard 
name.  No  matter.  These  rebels  shall  suffer  for  the 
wrongs  they  have  heaped  upon  me ;  and  I'll  sell  them 
body  and  soul,  if  craft  and  cunning  can  do  it. 

Obed.     And  thee  would  marry  my  daughter? 

Bosivorth.  Would?  I  will.  I  ain  powerful  now.  I 
can  denounce ;  I  can  protect.  If  thee  will  use  thy 
influence  with  her,  I  stand  thy  friend ;  if  not,  thee  and 
thy  household  must  be  outlawed.  'Tis  a  fair  bargain. 
Her  hand  for  thy  peace,  perhaps  thy  life. 

Obed.  Nay,  thee  knows  'tis  my  custom  to  sleep 
upon  a  bargain.  Fear  not ;  thy  offer  shall  be  well  con 
sidered.  Hush !  Here  is  daughter  Ruth.  (Enter 
Ruth  R.  u.  E.) 

Ruth.     Mother  tells  me  thee  does  want  me,  father. 

Obed.  Nay,  daughter.  I  did  but  ask  for  thee,  miss 
ing  thee  from  the  kitchen. 

Ruth.  Prudence  sent  me  away.  I  would  have 
helped  her  with  the  washing,  but  she  bade  me  begone ; 
so  I  have  been  at  my  window,  watering  the  plants. 

Obed.     And  watching  the  men  of  war  on  the  green. 

Ruth.  Yea,  thee  is  right.  My  eyes  would  wander 
that  way.  Was  I  wrong?  Thee  has  taught  me  that 
war  is  unholy ;  that  man  has  no  right  to  take  the  life 
of  his  brother-man. 

Obed.     Thee  has  been  taught  well. 

Ruth.  Then  Friend  George  across  the  water  must 
be  a  very  wicked  man  ;  for  'twas  by  his  order  the  first 
blood  was  shed. 


230  ONE   HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO; 

Obed.  Nay :  he  was  but  asserting  his  right  to  his 
own  property. 

Ruth.  Then  our  neighbors  do  right  in  defending 
their  liberties.  Is  it  not  so? 

Obed.  Nay,  child ;  thee  cannot  understand  this 
quarrel.  Thee  had  better  hold  thy  peace.  Does  thee 
not  see  Friend  Bosworth? 

Ruth.     Friend  Bosworth,  thee  is  welcome. 

Bosworth.  Thee  is  always  kind,  Friend  Ruth. 
And  so  thee  has  a  wicked  sympathy  for  these  rebel 
lious  neighbors? 

Ruth.  Yea.  I  must  be  a  very  wicked  little  Quaker  ; 
for  I  do  hope  they  will  wax  strong  in  their  faith  that 
liberty  is  a  birthright ;  and  he  who  would  not  defend  it 
with  his  life  is  a  coward.  (  Turns  up  stage  to  ivindow, 
and  looks  out.} 

Bosivorth.  Friend  Obed,  thee  has  a  little  rebel 
beneath  thy  roof. 

Obed,  Nay,  never  heed  her,  Friend  Bosworth. 
Her  mother  has  an  obstinate  nature,  and  is  apt  to  be 
a  little  tart  of  tongue  ;  and  the  child  is  her  constant 
companion.  I  grieve  at  this  backsliding  from  the 
principles  of  our  faith.  But  thee  will  find  son  Eph- 
raim  untainted  with  the  war-spirit.  He  is  a  lad  after 
my  o-vn  heart.  Come,  let  us  go  to  my  room.  I  would 
hear  more  of  thy  plans.  (Exit  L.) 

Bosworth  (rises,  sets  buck  chair,  turns,  and  looks  at 
RUTH).  Verily,  she  is  a  little  rebel.  But  when  thee 
is  mine,  my  pretty  Ruth,  I'll  teach  thee  better. 
(Exit  L.) 

Ruth  (comes  down  R.).     I  like  not  Friend  Bosworth. 


OR,  OUR   BOYS  OF  I77B.  231 

Ho  looks  no  one  in  the  face :  he  is  soft  of  step,  and 
luitli  a  sneaking  way  of  watching  that  troubles  in.. 
When  my  eyes  arc  turned  away,  I  can  feel  his  eyes 
upon  me,  for  a  shudder,  as  though  a  snake  was  crossing 
my  path,  runs  through  me.  He  is  not  to  be  trusted. 
( llnter  PRUDENCE  door  in  flat  with  jvu'l  a  ml  <li/>/>t ,-.  \ 

Prudence  {comes  L.).  Hallo,  Miss  Impudence,  didn't 
I  tell  you  not  to  come  into  the  kitchen? 

Ruth.  Nay,  thee  must  not  be  angry,  Prudence. 
Father  sent  for  me. 

Prudence.     Well,  remember  3-011  are  to  touch  nothing. 
Its  no  matter  though,  the  washing's  out.     (Knnrk  «t 
door}.    Who's  that?    Come  in.    (Enter  ELMER  ( • 
GER  with  gun:  looks  at  RUTH.) 

Elmer.  Is  this  the  house  of  Obed  Sterling?  (Sees 
PRUDENCE:  drops  gun.}  O  Prudence,  sister! 

Prudence.  Why,  it's  Elmer  !  (They  run  into  each 
other's  arms.)  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  3-011  again  ! 

Elmer.  Why,  sis,  you  dear  little  soul !  give  us 
another  buss. 

Prudence.  A  dozen.  Now,  where  did  3-011  come 
from,  and  what  brings  3-011  here? 

Elmer.  I  came  here  with  our  delegate  to  the  con 
vention  from  Massachusetts.  Arrived  at  Philadelphia 
3"esterda3',  saw  a  good  day's  work,  had  a  good  night's 
rest,  and  came  out  earlv  this  morning  to  hunt  you  up 
before  I  go  back  to  witness  the  adoption  of  the  declara 
tion.  Sis,  the  whole  county  is  rising.  It  needs  but 
that  determined  act  to  thrill  all  loyal  hearts,  and 
tyranny  is  crushed,  our  land  is  free.  (Looks  at  \\\  m, 
who  stands  R.  watching  them.)  But  there's  somebody, 
Prudence.  Manners,  sis,  manners. 


232  ONE   HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Prudence.  Why,  that's  Ruth.  —  Ruth,  this  is  my 
brother  Elmer. 

Elmer.     Hope  }*ou  are  well,  marm. 

Ruth.  Nay,  thee  is  mistaken,  the  mother  is  within. 
I  am  daughter  Ruth. 

Prudence.  Ha,  ha,  ha!  She's  a  funn}-  little  thing, 
Elmer. 

Elmer.  She's  a  beauty,  sis.  I'd  like  to  shake 
hands  with  her. 

Prudence.     Then,  why  don't  you?  she  won't  bite. 

Rutli.  Thee  is  very  welcome,  Friend  Elmer.  I 
would  like  to  shake  hands  with  thee,  but  thee  seem  a 
bit  bashful. 

Elmer.  Bashful!  me?  My  gracious,  sis,  did  you 
hear  that? 

Prudence.     Ha,  ha,  ha !     You're  frightened,  Elmer. 

Elmer  (crossing  to  RUTH)  .  I  am  a  rebel,  Miss  Ruth, 
in  arms  against  a  t}'rant  king.  I  would  gladly  give 
my  life  to  see  my  country  free.  Will  you  give  me  your 
hand  now? 

Ruth.  Yea,  thee  is  a  man  after  my  own  heart. 
Thee  shall  have  both  (offers  her  hands,  which  he  takes). 
I  love  thy  sister  dearly  :  should  I  not  share  her  pride  in 
such  a  noble  patriot  as  thee  is  ? 

Elmer  (pressing  her  hands).  Thank  you.  Sympa 
thy  for  our  cause  from  those  whose  principles  forbid 
resistance,  is  a  proof  we  are  right.  We  only  ask  our 
liberty  to  hold  what  is  our  own,  —  nought  else. 

Ruth.  Indeed !  Yet  thee  now  holds  what  is  not 
thy  own,  —  my  hands. 

Elmer  (dropping  her  hands') .     I  beg  your  pardon.     1 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OP  1776.  233 

Ruth.  Nay,  thee  must  not 'feel  hurt:  thee  may 
have  them  again  if  'twill  please  thee.  (Gives  hands.) 

Elmer.  Oh,  you  —  (drops  them  suddenly,  and  turns 
to  PRUDENCE)  .  Sis,  I  must  run,  or  I  shall  be  in  love 
with  this  fascinating  little  Quaker. 

Prudence.  Nonsense.  Yankees  never  run.  ( They 
talk  together.) 

Ruth  (aside) .  I  never  saw  a  man  I  liked  so  well. 
He  hath  a  good  form,  a  noble  face,  and  eyes,  ah  !  they 
make  me  shudder;  not  as  Friend  Bosworth's  eyes  do, 
but  still  a  shudder,  yet  very  pleasant  to  feel :  I  like  it. 

Prudence.  I  mustn't  stop  to  talk  with  you  now, 
Elmer :  must  get  the  washing  things  out  of  the  way. 
You  run  into  the  garden  with  Ruth  while  I  pick  up  a  bit, 

Ruth.  Yea,  Friend  Elmer,  I  will  show  thee  the  way. 
Thee  is  not  afraid  to  trust  thyself  with  me? 

Elmer.  Afraid !  (aside)  but  I  am.  (Aloud.)  Oh, 
certainly  not !  will  you  take  my  arm  ? 

Ruth.  Nay,  give  me  thy  hand,  and  I  will  lead  thee 
to  the  flower-beds.  (Gives  hand,  and  leads  him  to 
door.) 

Prudence.     Ah  !  Elmer  ?  (he  turns) .    Thee  seems  a 
bit  bashful.     Ha,  ha,  ha  !     (He  shakes  his  Jist  at  her, 
then  exit  with  RUTH.)     Well,  he's  provided  for:  so  I'll 
go  to  work  again.     (Goes  behind  tub,  and  dips  water 
from  tub  to  pail.)     It's  just  good  to  see  that  I  toy  from 
the  old  place  again.     (Enter  EPHRAIM,  door  in  i  . .  </  '  /• '  - 
ly ;  stands  at  door  a  second,  and  looks  at    I'KI  i 
then  creeps  to  door  R.  u.  E.,  listens,  then  steps  o* 
PRUDENCE,  raises  her  face,  and  kisses  her;  //«  / 
quickly  back  to  door,  and  stands  meekly  tiuirliny  hi$ 
thumbs,  with  eyes  turned  to  the  ceilhuj. 


236  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Prudence  Well,  don't  upset  my  tub,  then.  Ephraim, 
if  I  thought  I  could  depend  upon  you,  I  would  — 

Ephraim  {eagerly) .     Yea,  thee  would  — 

Prudence.     Ask  thee  to  help  me  with  the  tub. 

Ephraim.  Nay,  thee  mocks  me.  I'll  have  no 
more  to  say  to  thee.  (Comes  down  L.) 

Prudence.  That's  right,  Ephraim.  Silence  is  so 
becoming  to  a  Quaker  !  (Sings.) 

Father  and  I  went  down  to  camp, 

Along  with  Siah  Baker; 
And  there  we  saw  the  patriot  boys, 

But  not  a  single  Quaker. 

(Enter  GINGER  while  she  is  singing,  door  in  fiat,  and 
joins  in  chorus.) 

Yankee  Doodle,  &c.  (as  before). 

Ephraim.  Yea,  the  Friends  may  well  call  her  a  fire 
brand,  for  she'll  drive  me  to  the  battle-field  in  spite 
of  myself.  (Exit  L.) 

Ginger.  Dat's  de  camp-meeting  for  me.  Whenj-ou 
gwine  down  dar  again,  Miss  Prudence? 

Prudence.     Here,  Ginger,  catch  hold  of  the  tub. 

Ginger.  Yas,  indeed.  (They  take  tub  from  benchr 
and  set  it  on  stage  near  L).  Hallo,  who's  dat? 

(Enter  RUTH  and  ELMER,  door  in  flat :  he  has  his 
arm  about  her  waist.) 

Ruth.  Thee  sees  I  have  brought  thy  brother  back 
safe,  Prudence. 

Elmer.     And  we've  had  a  delightful  ramble. 

Prudence.  Yes,  you  have  waisted  no  time  in  getting 
acquainted.  (ROTH  sits  on  settle.)  Come,  Ginger, 
take  out  the  bench. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF   177(1  237 

Elmer.     Hallo,  this  is  Ginger:  I've  heard  of  him. 

Prudence.  And  Ginger  has  heard  of  3-011.  —  This 
is  my  brother  Elmer,  Ginger. 

Ginger.  By  golly,  you  don't  mean  it!  Massa 
Elmer,  you's  jes  one  ob  de  patriots.  (Boies  and 
scrapes.) 

Elmer.     Give  me  your  hand,  Ginger. 

Ginger.  Wh-wh-what!  you  gwine  to  shake  hands 
wid  a  darky? 

Elmer  (shaking  hands).  Yes,  and  proud  to  have 
the  chance,  Ginger.  My  sister  has  told  me  how  boldly 
you  came  to  her  rescue,  when  a  Tory  dared  to  step 
across  her  path.  You're  a  brave  fellow. 

Ginger.  Tank  you,  massa.  (Holds  up  his  hand.) 
Ole  hand,  3-011' s  been  shook  by  a  brave  man  :  dar 
sha'n't  no  more  soap  and  water  wipe  out  dat  are  honor, 
chile,  neber.  B\-  golty,  dese  Down-Easters  be  white 
men  ;  da3"'ll  be  freeing  all  de  darkies  one  ob  dese  days. 
(Takes  up  bench,  and  goes  to  door.)  Tank  you,  Massa 
Elmer.  I's  a  poor  old  dark3r,  but  I  got  a  heart,  and, 
if  I  could  die  for  3'ou  and  Miss  Prudence,  I'd  do  it 
freeh-.  (Exit  door  F.) 

Elmer.  Now,  Prudence,  come  and  sit  down :  I've 
much  to  sa\-  to  3-011. 

Prudence.  No  :  work  first,  and  pleasure  afterwards. 
(  Takes  up  pail. )  I  must  go  for  water. 

Elmer  (taking  pail) .  Not  while  I  am  here  :  where 
shall  I  find  it? 

Prudence.  I'll  show  3rou,  come.  (Exit  PRUDENCE 
and  ELMER,  door  in  flat.) 

Ruth.     I  like  Friend  Elmer.     What  a  pity  he's  one 


238  ONE   HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO; 

of  the  world's  people !  But  yet  I  think  I  like  him 
the  better  for  that.  None  of  the  Friends  can  talk  so 
sweetly  and  so  bravely.  (Enter  L.  Bosivorth.) 

Bosivorth  (aside).  I  have  found  her  alone  at  last. 
Friend  Obed  seems  to  be  of  a  wavering  nature.  I  fear 
I  cannot  depend  much  upon  his  assistance.  I'll  know 
my  fate  here  at  once.  (Aside.)  Friend  Ruth. 

Rath.     Well,  Friend  Bosworth. 

Bosivorth.     I  have  told  thy  father  that  I  love  thee. 

Ruth.     Indeed  !     Thee  never  told  me  as  much. 

Bosworth.     I  tell  thee  now,  that  I  love  thee  dearly. 

Ruth.  Has  thee  seen  the  3'oung  patriot,  Elmer 
Granger  ? 

Bosivorth.  Thee  does  not  mean  to  tell  me  the  brother 
of  Prudence  is  here? 

Ruth.  Yea,  he  is  here.  We  have  held  sweet  con 
verse  together,  and  I  like  him.  He  is  so  comely  and 
brave,  I  think  he  would  inspire  thee  with  admiration, 
Friend  Bosworth,  and  thee  is  not  a  man  easily  moved. 

Bosworth.  We  will  speak  of  him  another  time.  I 
told  thee  that  I  loved  thee. 

Ruth.  I  heard  thee,  and  thought  how  pleasant  would 
be  those  words  from  the  lips  of  Friend  Elmer. 

Bosworth.  Ruth  Sterling,  would  thee  insult  me? 
Does  thee  not  know  that  this  language  indicates  a 
marked  preference  for  this  young  rebel  ? 

Ruth.  Nay,  I  did  not  know  it ;  but,  if  thee  thinks  it 
does,  I'm  very  glad. 

Bosivorth.  Ruth  Sterling,  thee  must  think  of  him  no 
more.  It  is  thy  father's  wish  that  thee  shall  become 
my  wife.  Ruth,  Ruth,  thee  knows  not  how  dearly  I 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  239 

love  thee.  (Sits  beside  her,  and  attempts  to  take  her 
hand :  she  rises  indignantly. ) 

Jittth.  Be  silent,  I  command  thee ;  not  even  my 
father's  wish  shall  compel  me  to  hear  such  words  from 
thy  lips. 

Bosivorth.  Be  warned  in  time,  Ruth.  Thy  father's 
life  is  in  my  hands.  Consent  to  be  my  wife,  and  in 
the  coming  struggle  I  will  protect  him ;  refuse,  and  1 
give  him  up  to  the  ruthless  hands  of  the  advancing  foe. 

Ruth.  Thee  speaks  falsely,  Uriel  Bosworth.  My 
father  can  owe  nothing  to  thee,  and  if  he  did  would 
rather  die  than  peril  his  daughter's  happiness.  Be 
gone  ! 

Bosworth.  Nay,  Ruth  (puts  his  arm  about  Jier 
waist,  and  seizes  her  hand).  I'll  not  be  repulsed  so 
coolly. 

Ruth  (struggling) .     Release  me,  I  command  thee. 

Bosworth.  I  will  be  heard.  (Enter  KI.MEK.  door 
in  flat,  with  peril;  drops  it;  seizes  BOSWORTH,  and  //>//•/* 
him  across  stage.) 

Elmer.  You  have  been  heard,  friend.  (Enter  Mi:-. 
STERLING,  R.  1  E.  ;  OBED  and  EPHRAIM,  L.)  You  see 
you  have  aroused  the  whole  family. 

Obed.  Daughter  Ruth,  I  heard  thy  voice  raised  in 
anger. 

Hnsworth.  Friend  Obed,  I  am  to  blame.  Carried 
away  by  the  love  which  thee  knows  burns  within  TIU-. 
I  nr^ed  MIV  suit  so  warmly  as  to  frighten  Ruth.  She 
must  pardon  and  forget. 

Hath.  Yea,  Friend  Bosworth.  I  will  pardon,  but 
I  cannot  forget. 


240  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Obed.     Stranger,  thee  is  welcome. 

Ruth.  He  is  no  stranger,  father.  This  is  Elmer 
Granger. 

Obed.  The  brother  of  Prudence  ?  Thee  is  heartily 
welcome.  (Gives  his  hand.) 

Elmer.  Thanks,  Friend  Sterling.  (Enter  PRUDENCE 
door  in  F.) 

Prudence.  Yes,  that's  my  big  brother.  Come,  Eph- 
raim,  you  should  know  him. 

Ephraim.  Friend  Elmer,  I  am  glad  to  meet  thee. 
(Shakes  hands.) 

Elmer.  I've  heard  of  you.  Prudence  often  writes. 
I  think  you've  a  warm  corner  in  her  heart. 

Prudence  (pinching  him).  You  silly  goose !  You'll 
spoil  every  thing. 

Elmer.     Then  I'll  be  dumb  as  an  oyster. 

(ELMER  c.  ;  PRUDENCE  R.  c.  ;  RUTH  on  settle;  MRS. 
S.  stands  behind  her,  ivith  hand  on  her  shoulder ;  OBED 
L.  c.  ;  EPHRAIM  next  L.  ;  and  BOSWORTH  extreme  left.) 

Obed.  Thee  has  seen  stormy  times  in  thy  native 
place  ;  thee  has  suffered  deeply  in  this  wicked  rebellion. 

Elmer.  Wicked  rebellion?  You  are  wrong,  friend. 
If  ever  the  torch  of  war  is  lighted  in  a  holy  cause,  'tis 
when  it  flames  above  the  altar  of  liberty.  Remember 
that  'twas  only  after  the  iron  heel  of  the  oppressor  had 
trampled  on  our  hard-won  harvest  that  we  rose  defiant. 
I  have  seen  the  home  of  my  cnildhood  laid  in  ashes, 
my  father  shot  down  by  foreign  hirelings  who  had  no 
rights  to  enforce,  no  homes  to  protect,  our  dearest 
rights  insulted  to  feed  the  vanity  of  the  despot  who 
sits  on  England's  throne.  He  would  be  a  coward  in- 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  241 

deed,  who,  with  such  blighting  wrongs  to  avenge,  would 
not  dare  all  to  free  the  land  of  such  a  curse. 

Boswortli.  Young  blood  is  hot,  and  fiery  words  but 
cheap.  Save  thy  breath  :  we  are  loyal  to  Friend  George. 

Mrs.  S.  (coming  clown).  Nay,  speak  for  thyself, 
Friend  Bosworth.  —  Friend  Elmer,  thee  is  welcome. 
(Gives  her  hand.)  Thee  sees  they  have  forgotten 
me  :  I  am  Rachel  Sterling. 

Elmer  (clasping  her  Jtand).  My  dear  mother's  true 
and  steadfast  friend. 

Mrs.  S.  Yea,  it  was  a  sore  trial  to  my  friendship 
when  she  left  us  to  mate  with  one  of  the  world's  peo 
ple. 

Elmer.  But  you  were  true  to  her  always.  You 
showed  your  love  by  giving  my  sister  a  home.  Poor 
mother,  hers  was  a  hard  fate.  I  could  not  sorrow  for  my 
father  ;  for  he  died  bravety,  with  musket  in  hand.  But 
mother — curse  the  fiend  that  basel}'  struck  her  down! 
The}-  told  me  that  our  home  was  in  flames.  I  left  the 
ranks  of  the  little  band,  who  were  struggling  apiinst 
the  foe,  and  rushed  home  to  protect  my  mother.  As  1 
neared  the  house  I  saw  her  flying  from  its  door,  pursued 
by  one  Richard  Cross,  a  renegade,  who  had  led  our 
foes  to  plunder.  Even  as  I  looked  he  raised  the  sword 
he  bore,  and  struck  her  down.  I  flew  at  him,  seized 
his  weapon,  and  struck  at  his  bared  head.  He  raised 
his  hand,  and  caught  the  blow,  then  turned  and  fled.  I 
could  not  overtake  him,  and  returned  to  meet  a  last 
look  from  my  mother's  eyes,  as  she  sunk  in  dr:ith, 
The  renegade  fled  from  our  town.  Hebc:n>  the  mark 

O 

of  the  sword  on  his  right  hand ;  and,  should  we  ever 
16 


242  ONE   HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

meet,  my  mother's  death  shall  be  terribly  avenged. 
(BOSWORTH  hides  his  right  hand  in  his  bosom.) 

Mrs.  S.  Nay,  thee  must  not  speak  of  vengeance ; 
let  the  man  of  sin  depart  in  peace  ;  within  he  bears  his 
punishment.  Thy  mother  was  a  good  woman.  I  am 
glad  she  wed  the  man  of  her  choice. 

Elmer.  Then  you  have  not  the  Friends'  prejudice 
against  marriage  outside  the  sect. 

Mrs.  S.  I  may  have  the  prejudice  ;  but  I  would  not 
stand  in  the  wa}'  of  happiness. 

Elmer.     Even  were  it  your  own  daughter  ? 

Mrs.  S.  Yea.  My  daughter  Ruth  shall  make  her 
choice  ;  and  I  shall  love  him  even  though  he  be  of  the 
world's  people. 

Prudence  (aside  to  ELMER).  Hear  that,  brother. 
Don't  lose  the  opportunity.  Ruth  may  be  yours. 

Elmer  (aside  to  PRUDENCE).  I'll  win  the  little 
Quaker,  in  spite  of  the  scowling  Friend  yonder.  (Enter 
GINGER,  door  in  v.) 

Ginger.  Here  comes  old  Pretzel,  running  like  de 
debble.  Somefin's  broke,  sure  for  sartin. 

Prudence.  Well,  you  break  for  that  teakettle.  I 
must  scald  out  my  tub. 

Ginger  (goes  to  fireplace).  I'll  fotch  him,  Miss 
Prudence. 

(Enter  PRETZEL,  door  in  flat,  ivith  his  hand  to  his 
nose,  which  is  bleeding.) 

Pretzel.  Murter,  tieves !  Mine  prains  is  broke,  ant 
rny  heat  all  running  a,vay.  Look  at  dot,  see  de  bleet 
dot  I  ish  shedding  for  mine  country. 

Obed.     What's  the  trouble,  friend  Pretzel? 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  Of    '776.  243 

Pretzel.  De  Tories  come  to  mine  house.  Dey  proko 
mine  vindows,  dey  lets  mine  peer  all  runt  ava}-,  ant 
dey  vill  pull  der  house  up  to  der  grount  if  somepody 
don't  come  right  avay  pretty  quick. 

Elmer.  The  dastard.  Another  outrage  to  rouse  tli«- 
slumbering  patriotism  of  j'our  insulted  people  !  Thrv 
shall  find  one  strong  arm  to  bar  the  way. 

Pretzel.  Dot's  right.  You're  a  prave  young  m:ni. 
De}-  vill  run  vhen  dey  see  3-011.  Go  right  avay  <inirk, 
ant  I  vill  vait  here  till  you  come  pack.  (Going  L.) 

Elmer.  No,  you  must  lead  the  way.  Coiii*j,  come  : 
we  lose  time.  -(Takes  his  </UH.)  Now,  friends,  wi- 
have  an  opportunity  to  show  these  cowards  whf  :i  !\-\v 
brave  men  can  do.  Who  will  follow?  (AH  stand 
silent.)  Must  I  be  alone  in  this  good  work? 

Bosworth.  We  are  a  peaceable  people,  we  Meddle 
not  with  broils.  Thee  will  find  none  here  to  n»i^t 
thee. 

Elmer.  Indeed,  I  expected  little  from  you.  You 
have  the  air  of  a  coward,  one  who  would  force  his  love 
upon  an  unwilling  woman.  You  need  not  scowl.  I 
fear  you  not. 

Prudence.  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  a  man !  Bring  nu>  t'iMt 
kettle,  Ginger. 

Ginger  (brings  kettle  over  to  tub).     Yas,  indi-oi. 
den  I'm  wid  you,  Massa  Elmer. 

Prudence    (pours   boiling  water  into  tub.     Gi 
stands  just  L.  of  tub).     I'd  like  to  scald  somebody. 
Might  make  a  little  stir.     Lord  knows  there's  s<rae 
needed  here. 

Elmer.    Ginger,  you're  a  brave  fellow  :  come,  w*    * 


244  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

no  time  to  lose.  —  Hear  me,  friends.  I  know  not  the 
number  of  the  foe.  For  myself  I  care  not,  but  I  would 
have  our  onset  a  success.  Remember,  if  this  outrage 
is  not  quickly  avenged,  you  maj'  be  the  next  victims. 
For  your  own  sakes  be  wise.  Come  (pause).  Shame  ! 
In  a  neighbor's  cause  will  not  one  join  with  us  to  pre 
vent  outrage? 

Obecl.     Nay  :  our  faith  forbids  violence.     Not  one. 

Ephraim  (stepping  to  c.) .  Yea,  there  is  one  :  I  will 
join  thee. 

Obed,  Bosworth,  Ruth.     Thee ! 

Ephraim.  Yea,  I.  There's  my  hand,  Friend  Elmer. 
Tell  me  what  to  do,  where  to  strike,  and  thee  will  find 
the  Quaker's  arm  is  strong  for  the  right.  (Prudence 
goes  off,  i..) 

Obed.  Son  Ephraim  !  Is  thee  gone  mad  ?  thee  will 
disgrace  the  coat  of  drab. 

Ephraim  (taking  off  his  coat,  and  throwing  it  down) . 
Nay,  I'll  leave  it  behind.  'Twill  give  me  more  free 
dom.  I  will  smite  the  enemy  with  my  fists.  If  I  only 
had  a  gun  now  !  (Enter  Prudence,  L.) 

Prudence.  Here  it  is,  Ephraim.  I  brought  it  from 
Concord,  that  I  might  give  it  to  the  brave  man  who 
would  fight  forme.  O  Ephraim!  (Throws  her  arms 
about  his  neck,  and  kisses  him.) 

Ephraim.  Verilj-,  I  wax  strong  for  the  fight.  On, 
Friend  Elmer,  on ! 

Ginger.     Golly,  dar's  fight  in  de  young  Quaker. 

Elmer  (gives  his  hand  to  Ephraim) .  Thanks,  vou 
are  a  good  true  man,  a  friend  indeed. 

Bosworth.     You'll  repent  this,  young  man. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OP  1776.  l!l.'i 

Elmer.  Silence.  Dare  you  stand  between  a  man 
and  his  country's  cause?  Young  blood  is  hot,  and  fiery 
words  are  cheap,  you  say.  My  deeds  shall  speak  for 
me.  —  Come,  Pretzel. 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  I  vill  pe  mit  you  pretty  quick. 
(Passes  GINGER,  and  steps  on  his  toe.) 

Ginger.  Ow,  dat  ar  corn  again !  (Pushing  PRETZEL, 
he  sits  down  in  tub  of  water.) 

Pretzel  (with  hands  on  sides  of  tub  raises  himself) . 
Py  gracious,  someting's  purning ! 

Ginger.  Yah,  yah,  yah !  dat  Dutchman  always  in 
hot  water. 

TABLEAU.  —  ELMER  and  EPIIRAIM  at  door  with  hands 
clasped;  PRUDENCE  L.  back;  PRETZEL  in  tub ;  GINUEK 
next  L.,  laughing;  BOSWORTH  extreme  L.;  Rrxn  xfumlx 
by  fireplace  with  hands  clasped,  looking  intently  at  EL 
MER  ;  MRS.  STERLING  behind  settle  watching  EPHRAIM ; 
OBED  R.  Curtain. 

From  the  time  of  Pretzel's  entrance,  let  the  speech  be 
quick,  the  action  rapid. 


246  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 


ACT  II.  Evening.  Scene  same  as  in  Act  I.  Cur* 
tain  at  window  drawn.  Bright  fire  in  fireplace. 
Candle  burning  on  table.  PRUDENCE  seated  at  table 
sewing,  or  spinning  if  there  is  a  ivheel  on  stage. 
MRS.  STERLING  on  settle  knitting.  OBED  seated  in  a 
chair,  which  is  set  back  against  scene  R.,  near  fireplace 
next  1  E.  ;  his  head  leaning  back,  with  a  silk  hand 
kerchief  thrown  over  it;  his  hands  folded  across  his 
breast. 

Prudence.  After  a  storm  comes  a  calm.  The  ven 
erable  Obed  and  his  spouse  have  been  having  what 
would  be  called  among  the  world's  people,  a  spat.  I 
never  heard  two  people  go  on  so;  and  now  he's  evi 
dently  disciplining  himself  for  rebelling  against  the 
spirit  of  peace.  (OBED  groans.)  No,  he's  waking  up 
again. 

Obed  (snatching  off  handkerchief).  I  tell  thee, 
Rachel,  thee  is  a  foolish  woman.  Thee  has  listened 
to  the  mutterings  of  the  rebellious ;  thee  has  given 
thy  heart ;  yea,  encouraged  thy  daughter  to  sympathize 
with  the  discontented,  and  now  our  own  children  turn 
against  us. 

Mrs.  S.  Speak  for  thyself,  Obed.  Our  children 
have  not  turned  against  me,  and  I  blame  not  myself  that 
they  have  a  warm  interest  in  the  success  of  the  right. 

Obed  (groans) .  Yea,  verily,  peace  hath  fled  from  our 
dwelling.  This  firebrand  cometh  among  us  with  his 
warlike  tongue,  and  our  daughter  warmeth  towards 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  *J4< 

him  ;  and  our  son  forsaketh  the  path  of  peace,  and  goeth 
forth  to  slay.  It  shall  not  be.  The  girl  shall  be  locked 
in  her  chamber,  and  the  boy — 

Mrs.  S.  Nay.  Be  not  a  fool,  Obed.  Thee  might 
as  well  attempt  to  stop  the  whirlwind  as  to  quench  the 
fire  of  patriotism  when  'tis  kindled  in  a  man's  breast, 
or  to  smother  love  when  once  it  hath  found  a  resting- 
place  in  a  maiden's  heart. 

Prudence  (aside).  That's  what  I  call  sound  doc 
trine. 

Obed.  Rachel,  thee  is  mad.  Knows  thee  not  that 
the  fruitage  of  love  is  marriage,  and  Friends  cannot 
marry  out  of  their  own  sect? 

Mrs.  S.  Thee  knows  'tis  a  clause  in  our  creed  to 
which  I  could  never  give  approval.  Does  thee  re 
member  Hester  Page,  who  loved  the  father  of  Elnn-r 
and  Prudence?  She  was  beloved  by  all.  She  married, 
and  the  Friends  turned  from  her.  I  felt  they  were  un 
just  to  her ;  that  she  deserved  better  treatment  after 
all  her  devotion  to  the  good  works  among  us.  She  fell 
a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  liberty  ;  and  if  I  could  atone 
for  our  neglect  of  her  by  the  gift  of  our  daughter  to  her 
son,  —  her  noble  son,  —  I  would  consent,  though  all  the 
Friends  with  uplifted  hands  and  looks  of  horror  should 
cry,  "Nay." 

Prudence  (aside) .     Glory  hallelujah  ! 

Obed.  Nay,  be  silent:  thee'll  get  a  smart  talkin^- 
to  at  the  next  Yearly  Meeting. 

Mrs.  S.  Yea ;  but  I  have  a  tongue,  and  can  talk 
back,  Obed. 

Obed.     Yea,  and  drown  the  elders  with  thy  clamor. 


248  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Ginger  (outside).  Brcss  do  Lord,  I'se  home!  Hallo 
Massa  Eph.,  is  yer  comin'  ?  (Enter  door  in  F.) 

Prudence  (rising).  Why,  Ginger,  where  have  you 
been  all  day?  Where's  Ephraim  and  Elmer?  Is  any 
body  hurt?  Why  don't  you  speak? 

Ginger.  Now,  jes  you  hole  on,  Miss  Prudence. 
Does  yer  tink  I's  gwine  to  answer  forty -leben  ques 
tions  widout  a  breaf  ?  Here  I  is  :  dat's  naff  for  me. 

Mrs.  S.     Are  the  lads  safe,  Ginger? 

Ginger.  Wa'l,  I  dunno,  misses.  I'm  safe,  an' 
dat's  de  most  consequential.  I'll  tole  3-011  all  about 
it.  We  went  down  clar  to  old  Pretzel's  dis\  mornin', 
Massa  Elmer,  Massa  Eph.,  an'  —  an'  Ginger,  dat's 
me.  De  old  Dutchman,  he's  a  sneak  ;  he  jis  watch  his 
chance,  and  when  we  wasn't  looking  he  clared,  he  did. 
But  we  went  down  clar,  got  mos'  to  de  house,  and  we 
hear  de  wus  %yellin'  dat  eber  was.  Den  Massa  Elmer, 
he  says,  says  he,  Hole  on,  let's  squirmish  a  bit :  so 
we  lay  down  onto  de  grass  and  squirmished  up  to  de 
fence  ;  den  worked  on  up  to  de  woodpile,  and  made 
dat  a  sort  of  a-a-a  bull-whack.  Den  Massa  Elmer 
and  Massa  Eph.  dey  loaded  der  muskats,  an'  I  loaded 
a  big  stick  off  de  woodpile.  Dat  ar  Massa  Eph.,  by 
golly,  I  nebber  seed  a  man  so  nerbous  in  my  life  ;  he 
kept  a  pourin'  in  de  powder  an'  de  shot,  and  ram- 
ing  down,  till  he  must  have  had  six  bustin'  charges  in 
dat  ar  muskat.  Den  we  looked  round  de  corner  ob  de 
woodpile,  an'  dar  was  six  Tory  fellows  a-sittin'  on  de 
grass,  wid  a  keg  of  old  Pretzel's  beer  an'-an'  sour 
kruet,  an'-an'-snasengers,  jes  a  stuffin'  an'  drinkin'. 
Den  Massa  Elmer  sings  out,  Blaze  away,  bo}Ts,  an'-an' 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OP  1776.  249 

let  fly.  Den  Massa  Eph.,  he  sings  out,  an'  he  let  fly. 
Dar  was  an  explosion  like  a  cannon :  de  old  muskat 
kicked  ;  an'  Massa  Eph.,  he  jes  layed  on  his  back  an' 
hollered.  But  dem  are  Tories  dey  jes  scooted  down 
the  road,  wid  Massa  Elmer  an'  Massa  Eph.  loading 
up  and  blazin'  away.  Dey  dropped  four  Sn  'era.  We 
kep'  up  de  chase  three  hours ;  den  we  lost  sight  of 
Massa  Elmer  an'  de  Tories,  and  turned  back. 

Prudence.     Did  you  forsake  Elmer? 

Ginger.  No,  chile,  he  forsake  us.  Couldn't  keep 
up  wid  him  no  how. 

Mrs.  S.     But  where's  Ephraim? 

Eph.     (Enter  door  in  F.)     Yea,  verily,  he  is  here. 

(His  coat  and  vest  are  gone,  one  of  his  stockings  is 
hanging  over  his  shoe,  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt  is  ripped  up, 
elbow  scraped,  a  red  handkerchief  round  his  head,  one 
eye  blacked,  and  face  begrimed  with  powder  and  dust, 
gun  in  hand.) 

Obed  (groans) .  Ephraim,  my  son,  does  thee  return 
to  us  in  such  a  pitiful  plight? 

Ephraim.  Yea,  I  have  smelt  the  smoke  of  battle, 
I  have  smitten  the  dcspoiler  with  snipe-shot.  I  have  felt 
the  butt  of  my  musket  in  near  proximity  to  my  eye.  I 
have  sat  in  the  dust,  and,  in  the  language  of  the  world's 
people,  have  had  a  jolly  good  fight. 

Ginger.     Dat's  so ;  and  won  de  victory. 

Obed  (groans).  Ephraim,  my  son,  my  heart  i-; 
sore  troubled.  Thee  was  reared  a  child  of  peace ; 
thee  is  now  a  man  of  war  and  sin ;  thee  has  brought 
shame  to  our  house. 

Ephraim  (boldly) .     Nay,  father,  I  have  brought  no 


250  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

shame.  What  right  have  I,  with  all  the  blood  and  sinews 
of  a  man,  to  sit  idty  down  and  talk  of  peace,  when  my 
countrymen  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  are  roused  to 
arms,  at  the  encroaching  of  tyranny  upon  their  rights 
and  liberties  ?  I  have  been  reared  a  child  of  peace, 
and  the  inward  spirit  now  teaches  me  there  shall  be 
no  peace  until  we,  with  brave,  stout  hearts  and  strong 
right  arms,  have  taught  the  intruders  we  have  the  power 
to  maintain  it.  (Comes  down  L.) 

Prudence  (dapping  her  hands).  Hurray!  Them's 
my  sentiments. 

Mrs.  S.  Prudence,  thee  forgets  thj'self. — Eph- 
raini,  my  son,  thy  person  needs  proper  care. 

Epliraim.  Yea ;  and  I  am  as  hungry  as  the  bear 
that  roameth  the  wilderness.  (Enter  BOSWORTH,  door 
in  fiat.) 

Bosworth.  Ah,  Ephraim  has  returned.  What 
transformations  here,  child  of  Belial? 

Ephraim  (stepping  forward  quickly).  Nay,  Friend 
Bosworth,  thee  had  better  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  thy 
head.  The  fires  of  war  are  yet  hot  within  me,  and  per- 
adventure  thy  skull  may  open  wider  than  thy  mouth. 

Bostvorth.     Dares  thee  threaten  me? 

Ephraim.  Yea,  I  dare,  for  thee  is  a  smooth,  sneak 
ing  traitor,  Friend  Bosworth.  (Advancing  on  him.) 

Obed  (stepping  before  BOSWORTH).  Stand  back, 
Ephraim  :  in  my  house  a  guest  is  sacred. 

Prudence.  Land  sakes !  I  never  saw  a  man  so  full 
of  fight. 

Ginger.  Yaas.  I  guess  dar  ain't  much  stuffin'  in  his 
buzzum. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  2-r»l 

Obed.  Go  to  thy  room,  Ephraiin.  When  tlice  is 
thyself,  I'll  speak  with  thee. 

Mrs.  S.  Come,  Ephraim,  thy  mother  will  attend 
thee.  (Pats  him  upon  the  shoulder.)  Thee  is  fiery, 
but  'tis  in  a  good  cause,  and  thy  mother  is  proud  of 
thee.  (Exeunt  MRS.  S.  and  EPHRAIM,  L.) 

Ginger.  Miss  Prudence,  can't  you  find  me  som- 
fm  to  gnaw?  ain't  tasted  noffin  since  breakfus. 

Prudence  (coming  to  R.  u.  E.)  Yes,  come  with  me: 
I  can  find  a  cold  fowl.  (Exit.) 

Ginger  (following).  Dat's  good,  jes  let  me  get 
foul  of  it,  and  gib  it  a  burial-place. 

Bosworth.  Friend  Obed,  I  grieve  with  thee,  that 
the  child  of  thy  faith  should  have  gone  the  way  of 
wickedness. 

Obed.  Thee  needn't  trouble  thyself,  Friend  Bos- 
worth.  Thee  has  sins  enough  of  thine  own  to  grieve 
for.  The  lad's  spirit  has  been  aroused,  he  hath  found 
he  has  a  strong  arm,  that  his  country  needs  him.  If 
he  must  fight,  I  hope  his  aim  will  be  sure,  and  the 
enemy  bite  the  dust  before  him. 

Bosworth.  Obed  Sterling,  is  thee  turning  traitor 
too?  Beware!  thee  is  a  marked  man.  Give  these 
rebels  sympathy  even  in  thy  thoughts,  and  nought  can 
save  thee. 

Obed.  Hark  thee,  Friend  Bosworth  :  thee  has  dared 
to  threaten  me  before.  I  have  borne  with  thee  because 
thee  has  been  our  friend  (fiercely)  ;  but,  if  thee  dare 
use  such  words  to  me  again,  I  will  pitch  thee  out  of 
yonder  window. 

Bosworth   (aside).    The  old  man  is  stubborn.    I 


252  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO-, 

must  dissemble.  (Aloud.)  Nay,  nay  !  Friend  Obed. 
I  meant  not  to  threaten  ;  I  would  but  point  out  to  thee 
thy  danger.  Thee  shall  have  all  protection  from  me. 
Verily  it  would  be  base  in  me  to  persecute  thee,  when 
I  love  thy  daughter  so  dearly. 

Obed.     Thee  has  spoken  with  my  daughter? 

Bosivorth.  Yea,  I  did  urge  my  suit,  but  was  inter 
rupted  by  that  wicked  wretch,  Elmer  Granger.  Beware 
of  him.  He  looks  upon  the  girl  with  favor.  There  is 
danger  in  his  presence.  Secure  thy  daughter's  safety 
by  giving  me  thy  promise  she  shall  be  mine. 

Obed.  I  told  thee  I  would  sleep  upon  it.  As 
thee  seems  in  haste,  we  will  settle  the  matter  now. 
Here  comes  my  daughter.  (Enter  RUTH  1  E.  R.  ) 
Ruth,  child,  come  hither.  Thee  sees  Friend  Bosworth, 
a  man  of  strong  build,  and  not  uncomely,  of  good 
report  among  the  Friends  ;  not  burdened  with  wealth, 
but  active  in  its  pursuit.  He  asks  me  to  give  him 
thy  hand,  would  have  thee  be  his  wife. 

Bosworth.  Yea,  Ruth,  I  love  thee  with  my  whole 
soul. 

Obed.  Speak,  daughter:  thy  fate  is  in  thy  own 
hands.  Neither  thy  father  nor  thy  mother  will  prevent 
thy  free  choice. 

Ruth.  Father,  thee  has  ever  been  kind  to  me. 
Never  an  unkind  word  has  thee  given  me.  From  my 
earliest  days  thee  has  been  ever  watchful  over  my 
thoughts  and  wishes.  No  blessing  thee  could  be 
stow  has  ever  been  withheld.  I  honor  thee  above  all 
men.  Thy  judgment  is  so  wise  that  thy  word  is  law 
to  me.  I  know  Friend  Bosworth  professes  love  for  me ; 


OR,  OUR  HOYS  OP   1770.  li.>.-. 

and  yet  my  heart  has  felt  no  answering  thrill  (o  his 
protestations.  I  shrink  from  his  glance,  and  tivinM« 
in  his  presence.  Nay,  I  will  he  frank.  Another,  with  no 
words,  with  no  entreaties,  has  touched  a  chord  within  my 
being  that  vibrates  with  ecstasy  at  his  approach.  He 
is  of  the  world's  people,  yet  brave,  strong,  and  true. 
Yet  I  am  but  a  child,  and  may  not  know  my  own  heart. 
My  fate  I  leave  in  thy  hands.  Speak,  lather :  what 
thee  says  shall  guide  me. 

Obed  (takes  RUTH'S  hand,  kisses  her  on  the  j'<n-t'hcnd, 
then  turns  to  BOSWORTH).  Friend  Bos  worth,  thee  has 
th}r  answer.  {Comes  to  L.) 

Bosioorth  (c. ) .  Na}r,  this  will  not  serve.  I  must  have 
a  plain  answer,  yes,  or  no. 

Obed  (sternly).  No.  A  thousand  times  no.  My 
daughter  is  not  for  such  as  thou. 

Bosworth.     Nay,  bear  with  me,  Friend  Obed. 

Obed.  Nay,  thy  friend  no  more,  Bosworth.  I  have 
borne  with  thee  until  Patience  is  indignant  at  me. 
By  thy  own  confession,  thee  is  a  spy ;  but  that  I 
feared  my  daughter  loved  thee,  I  would  have  driven 
thee  from  m}'  house,  when  thee  first  spoke.  Now,  I 
tell  thee,  quit  my  house. 

Bostvorth.    Has  thee  forgotten  I  can  destroy  thee? 

Obed.  Do  thy  worst.  No  harm  can  come  to  him 
who  obeys  the  voice  of  conscience. 

Bosworth.  Then,  dread  my  vengeance.  You  know 
me  not.  You  thought  I  was  a  cowardly  Quaker.  I 
have  deceived  you  and  your  tribe.  The  opinions  of  your 
sect  are  known  to  me ;  ay,  and  all  their  wealth,  and 
where  'tis  to  be  found.  One  motive  only  has  kept  me  in 


252  ONE  HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO  • 

must  dissemble.  (Aloud.)  Nay,  nay  !  Friend  Obed. 
I  meant  not  to  threaten ;  I  would  but  point;  out  to  thee 
thy  danger.  Thee  shall  have  all  protection  from  me. 
Verily  it  would  be  base  in  me  to  persecute  thee,  when 
I  love  thy  daughter  so  dearly. 

Obed.     Thee  has  spoken  with  my  daughter? 

Bosworth.  Yea,  I  did  urge  my  suit,  but  was  inter 
rupted  by  that  wicked  wretch,  Elmer  Granger.  Beware 
of  him.  He  looks  upon  the  girl  with  favor.  There  is 
danger  in  his  presence.  Secure  thy  daughter's  safety 
by  giving  me  thy  promise  she  shall  be  mine. 

Obed.  I  told  thee  I  would  sleep  upon  it.  As 
thee  seems  in  haste,  we  will  settle  the  matter  now. 
Here  comes  my  daughter.  (Enter  RUTH  1  E.  R.  ) 
Ruth,  child,  come  hither.  Thee  sees  Friend  Bosworth, 
a  man  of  strong  build,  and  not  uncomely,  of  good 
report  among  the  Friends  ;  not  burdened  with  wealth, 
but  active  in  its  pursuit.  He  asks  me  to  give  him 
th}'  hand,  would  have  thee  be  his  wife. 

Bosworth.  Yea,  Ruth,  I  love  thee  with  my  whole 
soul. 

Obed.  Speak,  daughter:  thy  fate  is  in  thy  own 
hands.  Neither  thy  father  nor  thy  mother  will  prevent 
thy  free  choice. 

Ruth.  Father,  thee  has  ever  been  kind  to  me. 
Never  an  unkind  word  has  thee  given  me.  From  my 
earliest  days  thee  has  been  ever  watchful  over  my 
thoughts  and  wishes.  No  blessing  thee  could  be 
stow  has  ever  been  withheld.  I  honor  thee  above  all 
men.  Thy  judgment  is  so  wise  that  thy  word  is  law 
to  me.  I  know  Friend  Bosworth  professes  love  for  me ; 


OR,  OUR   HOYS  OP   1770.  2.M 

and  yet  my  heart  has  felt  no  answering  thrill  to  his 
protestations.  I  shrink  from  his  glance,  and  tmnl.Ic 
in  his  presence.  Nay,  I  will  he  frank.  Another,  with  no 
words,  with  no  entreaties,  has  touched  a  chord  Within  my 
being  that  vibrates  with  ecstasy  at  his  approach.  II- 
is  of  the  world's  people,  yet  brave,  strong,  and  true. 
Yet  I  am  but  a  child,  and  may  not  know  my  own  heart. 
My  fate  I  leave  in  thy  hands.  Speak,  father :  what 
thee  says  shall  guide  me. 

Obed  (takes  RUTH'S  hand,  kisses  her  on  the  forehead, 
then  turns  to  Bos  WORTH).  Friend  Bos  worth,  thee  has 
thy  answer.  (Comes  to  L.) 

Bosworth  (c. ) .  Nay,  this  will  not  serve.  I  must  have 
a  plain  answer,  yes,  or  no. 

Obed  (sternly).  No.  A  thousand  times  no.  My 
daughter  is  not  for  such  as  thou. 

Bosworth.     Nay,  bear  with  me,  Friend  Obed. 

Obed.  Nay,  thy  friend  no  more,  Bosworth.  I  have 
borne  with  thee  until  Patience  is  indignant  at  me. 
B\-  thy  own  confession,  thee  is  a  spy ;  but  that  I 
feared  my  daughter  loved  thee,  I  would  have  driven 
thee  from  my  house,  when  thee  first  spoke.  Now,  I 
tell  thee,  quit  m}-  house. 

Bosworth.    Has  thee  forgotten  I  can  destroy  thee? 

Obed.  Do  thy  worst.  No  harm  cun  come  to  him 
who  obeys  the  voice  of  conscience. 

Bosworth.  Then,  dread  my  vengeance.  You  know 
me  not.  You  thought  I  was  a  cowardly  Quaker.  I 
have  deceived  you  and  your  tribe.  The  opinions  of  your 
sect  are  known  to  me ;  ay,  and  all  their  wealth,  and 
where  'tis  to  be  found.  One  motive  only  has  kept  me  in 


254  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

3'our  midst,  —  love  for  your  daughter.  She  scorns  me. 
Now  comes  my  turn.  I  will  seize,  burn,  destro}',  till 
you  shall  tremble  at  my  name  (goes  to  door) .  You  have 
need  of  all  jour  caution.  The  hour  of  vengeance  is 
approaching.  Ruth  Sterling,  you  tremble  in  1113*  pres 
ence  :  ha,  ha,  ha !  Present  or  absent,  3'ou  shall  now 
tremble  at  the  thought  of  me,  for  I  swear  3-011  shall 
be  mine.  (Exit  door  in  fiat.) 

Ruth  (running  to  OBED  :  they  meet  in  c.  of  stage) . 

0  father,  father  !  he  terrifies  me. 

Obed.  Na3",  fear  not,  child,  He  is  a  bad,  wicked 
man ;  but  he  cannot  harm  thee.  Go  to  thy  rest. 
(Leads  her  to  1  E.  R.) 

Ruth.  But,  father,  thee  is  grieved  that  I  love  Elmer 
Granger. 

Obed  (groans).  He  is  of  the  world's  people.  The 
Friends  will  groan  in  spirit ;  but  thee  has  said,  no  bless 
ing  I  could  bestow  upon  thee  was  ever  withheld.  Go  to 
tli3r  rest  in  peace.  (Exit  Ruth  I  E.  R.) 

Obed  (groans).  Verily,  Friend  Obed,  thee  is  run 
ning  up  a  long  account  for  settlement  at  Yearby  Meet 
ing.  (Enter  EPHRAIM  from  door  L.  ;  costume  same 
as  in  Act  /.,  spruce  and  clean,  gun  in  his  hand.) 
Ephraim,  my  son,  thee  is  not  going  out  on  the  war 
path  again? 

Eph.    Yea,  father.    Friend  Elmer  may  need  my  help. 

1  go  to  seek  him. 

Obed.  Give  me  thy  hand,  Ephraim.  {They  shake 
hands.)  It  grieves  me  that  thee  is  become  a  man  of 
war ;  but,  if  thee  must  go,  remember  the  maxim  of  the 
world's  people,  "  Put  thy  trust  in  Providence,  and  keep 


OR,   OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  2f»5 

thy  powder  dry."  And  do  not  forget  the  words  of  that 
brave  but  sinful  Friend,  Israel  Putnam,  "  Wait  until 
thee  sees  the  white  of  their  eyes."  Peace  go  with  thee, 
in}-  son ! 

Eph  (patting  gun).    Yea,  I  have  it  in  my  hands. 

Obed  (groans).  Yea,  Rachel  is  right;  but  the 
women  must  not  have  it  all  their  own  wa}'.  (Exit 
L.  1  E.) 

Eph.  Now  I  will  seek  Friend  Elmer.  (Goes  up. 
Enter  PRUDENCE,  door  R.  u.  E.) 

Prudence.  Ephraim,  you  are  not  going  out  again 
to-night  ? 

Eph.  Verily,  Friend  Prudence,  it  is  not  right  that  I 
should  leave  thy  brother  in  the  midst  of  wolves.  I 
go  to  seek  him. 

Prudence.  O  Ephraim !  you  a  perfect  fire-eater, 
—  a  man  that  I  am  proud  to  call  my  lover. 

Eph.  Nay,  thee  is  mistaken.  I  am  no  woman's 
lover. 

Prudence.  What?  Didn't  you  make  love  to  me 
over  the  washing  this  morning? 

Eph.  Yea,  I  did  speak  some  tender  words  of  non 
sense  in  thine  ear. 

Prudence.     In  my  ear  !     Why,  you  kissed  me  ! 

Eph.  Yea,  I  did  imprint  the  seal  of  friendship  upon 
thy  lips.  But  I  have  another  mistress  now. 

Prudence.  You  don't  mean  to  say  j'ou've  fallen  in 
love  with  another  woman  !  Who  is  she  ? 

Eph.  My  country.  Thee  did  mock  my  profession 
of  peace.  Thee  did  call  me  a  coward.  And  I  girded 
on  my  armor,  and  went  forth  to  battle. 


-of)  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO  ; 

Prudence.  Yes,  I  aroused  the  manhood  within  you, 
and  made  you  a  patriot. 

Eph.  Yea,  and  so  filled  my  heart  with  martial  fire, 
it  hath  not  room  for  any  tenderer  flame.  If  thee  loves 
me,  thee  is  to  be  pitied,  for  thee  has  given  me  to 
another  and  a  sterner  mistress.  The  war-drum  rings 
in  my  ears,  the  flash  of  musketry  is  before  my  eyes.  I 
I  hunger  for  the  fight,  and  have  no  appetite  for  love. 
Fare  thee  well,  Friend  Prudence.  If  thee  has  lost  a 
lover,  thy  country  has  found  a  defender.  (Sings.) 

Yankee  Doodle,  keep  it  up, 

Yankee  Doodle  daudee; 
Mind  the  music  and  the  steps, 

And  leave  the  girls  behind  thee. 

[Exit  door  in  F. 

Prudence.  Well,  I  never  !  Mittened  by  a  Quaker ! 
I  shall  never  hold  up  my  head  again.  I've  roused  the 
lion,  and  lost  the  lamb  ;  the  Quaker  wasn't  worth  hav 
ing,  but  the  soldier's  quite  another  article.  Oh\dear, 
dear,  dear !  this  comes  of  meddling  with  politics. 
Maybe  he'll  get  shot,  and  I'll  have  his  death  to  answer 
for.  Ah  Prudence  !  I'm  afraid  you  care  more  for  this 
fellow  than  you  dream  of.  (Takes  up  candle.}  I'm 
not  going  to  lose  any  sleep  for  him.  (Crosses  to  R.  IE.) 
He  hungers  for  the  fight.  Ah  Ephraim  !  courage  may 
serve  you.  in  the  battle,  but  Prudence  is  a  virtue  not  to 
be  despised.  (Exit  1  E.) 

(Enter  GINGER  R.  u.  E.,  gnawing  a  bone.) 
Ginger.     Dah,  dat  ar  fowl's   gone   to   roost.     I've 
cleaned  the  cubburd  of  all  de  eatables  and  drinkables* 


OR,   OUR   BOYS  OF   1776.  257 

Dun  no  what  dey'll  do  for  breakfus  in  dc  raornin,  but  de 
clams  ob  hunger  must  be  dissatisfied  if  it  breeds  a  fam 
ine.  Eberybody  gone  to  bed,  den  I'll  go  out  to  dc 
barn  and  snooze  myself.  Hullo,  what  dat?  (Listens 
at  door. )  Sh !  dar's  sumbody  prowlin  'round  de  house. 
Whispers.  Halt,  Ginger,  das  mischif  in  de  wind. 
Keep  dark,  honey.  (Lies  down  behind  settle.  Door  is 
pushed  open  slowly,  and  Bos  WORTH  looks  in,  then  creeps 
cautiously  down,  listens  at  door  L.,  then  goes  back  to 
door  in  flat,  and  beckons.) 

(Enter  BURKE  and  BLUCHER,  tvitJi  guns.  Att  three 
come  down  stage,  BURKE  R.,  BLUCHER  L.,  BOSWORTH 
c.) 

Burke.  Look  here,  Broadbrim.  What  kind  of  a  job 
is  this? 

Blucher.     Yes.     Plunder,  or  murder?    Speak  out. 

Bosworth.  Silence  !  (Creeps  to  door,  L.,  and  turns 
key.)  There,  I've  locked  in  the  only  one  from  whom 
we  might  expect  interruption,  — young  Sterling.  He's 
had  a  fight  to-day,  so  he'll  sleep  soundly  now. 

Blucher.  We  can  easily  give  him  a  sleeping-powder, 
if  you  say  the  words  (slapping  gun). 

Blucher.  With  a  pill  added  that  will  be  sure  to 
quiet  him. 

Bosworth.     Hist !     What  brings  you  here  to-night? 

Burke.  It's  all  along  of  that  fight  at  the  Dutch 
man's  this  morning.  We  were  surprised  by  an  infer 
nal  rebel,  who  drove  us  beyond  Carter's,  until  his 
comrades  deserted  ;  and  then  we  turned  and  took  him. 
I  wanted  to  swing  him  to  a  tree,  but  the  cap'n  said 
%o;  he  w«u»  a  brave  fellow,  and  we  must  take  him 
17 


258  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

down  to  camp,  and  honor  him  with  a  shooting.  So  we 
took  him  down  there,  tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  went  to 
supper.  When  supper  was  gone,  we  found  the  rebel 
gone  also.  So  Blue  and  I  were  detailed  to  retake  him. 
We  tracked  him  to  within  a  mile  of  this  house,  and  then 
lost  him. 

Bosiuorth.  But  you  are  on  his  track  now.  He  and  the 
owner  of  this  place,  Obed  Sterling,  are  leagued  togeth 
er. 

Blucher.     Sterling  !     Why,  Sterling's  a  Quaker. 

Bosiuorth.     He's  a  traitor.     You  know  me? 

Burke.  Know  you,  Broadbrim,  the  spy?  Ay,  we 
have  orders  from  Cap'n  Trot  to  obey  you  when  the 
service  requires. 

Bosworth.  Ay,  I  have  need  of  you  now.  My  orders 
from  headquarters  are  to  shoot  this  Sterling ;  to  seize 
his  daughter,  and  take  her  to  Carter's. 

Blucher.     Oh,  we  don't  want  to  meddle  with  girls ! 

Bosiuorth.     The  service  demands  obedience. 

Blucher.     All  right,  Broadbrim. 

Bosiuorth.  Then  you  look  out  for  the  old  man,  and 
I'll  take  care  of  the  girl.  First  to  arouse  Sterling. 
You,  Blucher,  go  beneath  the  window  of  his  room,  at 
that  corner  (points  to  L.  1  E.),  throw  up  a  stone ;  he'll 
open  the  window  ;  tell  him  Friend  Garner  is  sick  and 
needs  him  ;  that  will  bring  him  out.  When  he  appears 
make  short  work  of  him,  for  he  is  a  traitor  to  the  king, 
and  well  deserves  what  he  must  receive,  —  instant 
death. 

Burke.     Never  fear.     I  seldom  lose  a  shot. 

Blucher.     Nor  I.     Old  Deadeye  is  sure  death. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  259 

Bosworth.  Be  cautious.  Give  me  ton  minutes  to 
secure  the  girl,  then  follow  my  instructions. 

Bhicher,  All  right.  But  who  pays  the  funeral  ex 
penses  ? 

Bosworth  (handing  him  a  purse).  The  King  of  Eng 
land. 

Blucher  (throws  up  purse) .     Long  live  the  king ! 

Bosworth.  Now  away.  Hush!  who's  that?  (En~ 
ter  PRETZEL,  door  injlat.  BLUCHER  and  BURKE  crouch 
on  thejioor  R.  and  L.) 

Pretzel.  Ha,  ha !  Friend  Sterling ;  wash  you  op  ? 
Dot  is  goot.  I  ish  as  try  as  never  vas.  Dose  rascals 
trink  op  all  mine  peer,  and  I  coome  to  get  some  of  your 
cider.  Hy  !  vhat  is  dot  ?  Friend  Sterling,  you  is  not 
Friend  Sterling  after  all. 

Ginger  (peeps  over  settle).  By  golly,  dat  ar  Dutch 
man  in  anoder  scrape. 

Bosworth.     What  do  you  want  here  ? 

Pretzel  (shaking).  Oh,  notings  if  you  bleese.  I  just 
got  run  ober  from  mine  house.  Didn't  know  you  had 
gompany.  (BURKE  and  BLUCHER  rise,  and  point  guns 
at  him.)  Mine  gracious  gootness,  ton't  you  do  dot 
(falls  on  his  knees).  I'm  only  a  poor  Tuchman  vidout 
fader  or  moder. 

Bosworth.     Get  up,  fool. 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  right  avay  puty  quick  (rises).  Ef 
you  bleese,  don't  explode  your  guns  mit  MH-.  I'm  ony 
a  poor  — 

Bosworth.     Shut  up ! 

Pretzel.  Yaw.  I  like  to  say  notings  init  my  inout 
shut. 


260  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Bosworth.     Take  him  out  and  lock  him  in  the  barn. 

Pretzel.  In  ter  parn  mit  ter  pigs?  I  don't  like  dot 
puty  veil. 

Bosworth.  Do  as  I  bid  you  ;  if  he  opens  his  mouth, 
throw  him  in  the  horse-pond. 

Pretzel.  Dot's  vhat  you  call  horspuddalit}'.  I  don't 
like  dot. 

Blucher.     Come,  start,  Dutchy. 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  don't  pint  dem  tings  ;  dey  might  go 
off. 

Burke.  After  you.  (PRETZEL  backs  up  to  door. 
BURKE  and  BLUCHER  follow  witli  their  guns  pointed  at 
him.) 

Pretzel.  Dis  is  too  pad.  You  don't  got  some  piz- 
ness  here,  an'  I  don't  got  mine  cider.  (They  threaten 
him  ivith  guns;  he  exits  in  a  hurry,  followed  by  BLUCHER 
and  BURKE.) 

Bosworth.  Now,  then,  my  pretty  Ruth,  if  you 
won't  be  mine  by  fair  means,  you  shall  by  foul.  (Creeps 
sloiuly  to  R.  I.E.) 

Ginger  (rises) .  Der'  s  gwine  to  be  trouble  in  dis  yer 
family;  it's  about  time  I  looked  up  MassaEph.  (Exit 
door  in  F.) 

Bosioorth  (turning  quickly) .  What's  that?  I  thought 
I  heard  a  step.  It  must  have  been  Blucher  (turns  to 
R.).  Ah,  the  pretty  Ruth  comes  this  way.  'Twill 
save  the  trouble  of  calling  her.  (Creeps  behind  settle, 
and  hides.  Enter  RUTH  with  a  lighted  candle:  she 
places  it  on  the  table  and  goes  to  window,  speaking  as 
she  enters.) 

Ruth.     I  cannot  go  to  rest  while  Friend  Elmer  is  in 


OK,  OUR  BOYS  OP  177f,.  261 

If  he  is  safe,  he  would  have  returned  to  see 
his  sister.  (Looks  out  of  window.)  Nay,  'tis  very 
dark.  What  can  have  become  of  him  !  He  is  brave 
and  noble,  and  his  must  be  a  good  heart,  it  mo\ 
quickly  at  the  call  of  distress.  I  doubt  if  he  thinks 
of  me.  Why  should  he?  Ah,  that's  a  wise  question, 
too  profound  from  my  head,  so  I'll  leave  the  heart  (o 
answer  it.  And  that  says  yea,  as  there's  truth  in 
his  bright  e}res,  he  does.  I  wish  he'd  come.  His  sister 
must  be  so  anxious  about  him,  and  she  sleeps  soundly. 
I  looked  in  upon  her :  she  had  thrown  herself  dressed 
upon  the  bed  and  slept.  I  could  not  do  that,  and  yet 
I  am  so  anxious  !  (BOSWORTH  rises.)  Ah,  who's  that? 
(Comes  down  L.) 

Bosworth  (coming  down  R.)  One  not  unknown  to 
you. 

Ruth.     Thee  here  again  ! 

Bosiuorth.  Ay,  my  pretty  Ruth.  I  could  not  leave 
the  Quaker  fold  and  go  out  among  the  world's  people 
alone,  and  so  I  have  returned  for  thee  to  bear  me 
company. 

Ruth.  Thee  does  but  jest,  Uriel  Bosworth,  :md 
th}'  humor  is  so  grim  I  like  it  not. 

Bosworth.  No,  it  makes  you  tremble,  pretty  Ruth. 
Come,  you  must  go  with  me.  I  told  von  yon  wen- 
very  dear  to  me.  I  can't  live  without  yon.  You 
have  kindled  a  fierce  passion  in  my  breast.  — so  lien v 
that,  were  a  thousand  in  my  path,  I'd  slay  limn  n'.l 
before  I'd  lose  you. 

Ruth.     Thee  has  no  right  to  enter  hero.     Th- 
abase,  bad  man.  sm-:ikm«?  lik»-  :i  thii-f.  \\hru  d-nkm-> 


262  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO  ; 

covers  the  earth,  into  the  house  of  the  man  thee  dares 
not  face  in  open  daylight. 

Bosivorth.     I  dare  face  thee,  Ruth  — 

Ruth.  Ay,  with  a  bold  front  but  a  coward  heart. 
Thee  is  a  traitor  to  our  faith,  a  traitor  to  the  cause  of 
libert}',  and,  still  greater  shame,  a  traitor  to  the  name 
of  manhood.  Get  thee  hence  ! 

Bostvorth.  Ho,  ho !  bravely  spoken,  Ruth.  You 
are  a  girl  of  spirit.  You  are  a  prize  worth  winning. 
But  }'ou  forget  you  are  alone  and  unprotected.  Your 
brother  is  securely  bound,  your  father  doomed  if  he 
moves  from  his  chamber.  I  come  not  alone. 

Ruth.  Thee  is  a  brave  man,  Uriel  Bosworth. 
Thy  tyrant  master  must  be  proud  of  his  followers  who 
war  upon  women. 

Bosworth.     Ruth  Sterling,  I  swear  — 

Ruth.  Silence !  Insult  not  my  father's  roof  with 
an  oath.  Insult  not  his  daughter  witli  the  profanation 
of  that  holy  virtue  which  exists  alone  in  honest  hearts. 
Begone ! 

Bosivorth.  Not  without  }*ou,  Ruth.  You  must  go 
with  me.  Do  not  compel  me  to  use  force.  You  are 
unprotected. 

Ruth.  Stand  back,  traitor.  My  protection  is  there 
(points  up),  though  dangers  surround  me,  He  will 
securely  guard  and  guide.  Stand  back,  and  let  me 
pass.  (Goes  towards  R.) 

Bosworth  (seizing  her  wrist).  Nay,  na}-,  m}-  pretty 
Quaker.  There  is  no  escape.  You  must  come  with 
me. 

Ruth.  Uriel  Bosworth,  release  me.  (Flinging  off 
kis  hand,  and  going  L.) 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776.  263 

Boswortli  (comes  R.)  You  cannot  pass  to  your  cham 
ber.  Hereafter  the  path  of  life  we  travel  together. 
Come. 

Ruth.  Never.  Thee  has  my  father  in  thy  power. 
I'll  trust  my  fate  to  the  darkness  of  the  night.  (Runt 
up  to  door  in  fiat.) 

Bosworth  (seizing  her  in  c.  of  stage) .  No,  no,  Ruth  ; 
trust  to  the  light  of  my  love. 

Ruth  (tttruyyling  to  free  herself).  No,  no  !  Rather 
death.  Father!  brother!  Elmer,  Elmer!  (Enter 
ELMER  door  in  R.) 

Elmer.  Here  at  thy  call,  Ruth  (strikes  BOSWORTH 
a  bloiv  in  his  breast  with  his  fist.  He  staggers  back  and 
falls  R.  RUTH,  with  a  cry,  throivs  herself  upon  ELMER'S 
breast).  Lie  there,  dog  !  — Nay,  nay,  do  not  tremble, 
Ruth  :  there  is  no  danger. 

Bosworth  (springing  to  his  feet).  Yon  lie,  you  curs 
ed  rebel !  The  house  is  surrounded  by  my  friends. 
There  is  danger  to  you.  Your  fate  is  sealed.  Release 
that  girl ! 

Elmer  (quietly).     Certainly,  if  she  desires  it. 

Ruth  (clinging  to  him) .     Na}1,  nay,  Friend  Elmer. 

Elmer  (with  his  arms  about  her) .  You  see  she  is 
contented  here.  (Cooly.)  And  I  rather  like  it,  Friend 
Bosworth. 

Bosworth.  I'll  tear  her  from  thee.  (Rushing  at  him. 
ELMER  quietly  infolds  her  with  his  left  arm,  and  seizes 
the  right  wrist  of  BOSWORTH.) 

Elmer  (fiercely).  Dare  to  profane  her  with  thy 
dastard  hand,  and  I'll  tear  —  (starting,  and  glancing  at 
band).  Ah  !  what  is  this?  (Steps  in  front  of  RUTH, 


264  ONE   HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO; 

still  grasping  BOSWORTH'S  wrist.)  A  blood- red  scar 
across  the  hand  (looks  inquiringly  at  BOSWORTH'S  face). 
Yes,  yes,  despite  the  shaven  face,  the  Quaker  garb,  I 
know  thee  now,  Richard  Cross,  my  mother's  murderer. 
(Flings  Bos  WORTH  back  to  R.) 

Bosworth.     'Tis  false  ;  we  never  met  until  this  day. 

Elmer.  But  once  :  the  day  you  outraged  mankind 
by  a  deed  so  coldly  cruel  that  fiends  would  blush  to 
own  it.  For  a  year  I  have  sought  you,  Richard  Cross, 
in  town  and  country,  midst  my  country's  foes ;  ay, 
turned  the  dead  upon  the  field  of  battle  that  I  might 
find  that  bloody  mark  upon  a  lifeless  hand  and  know 
my  mother's  murder  was  avenged.  At  last  we  meet. 
Heaven  has  reserved  thee  for  a  son's  avenging  hand. 
Richard  Cross,  but  one  of  us  must  quit  this  place  alive. 
(Approaches  him.) 

Bosworth  (aloud).  Stand  back!  my  friends  are  at 
my  call.  Hallo,  Burke  ! 

Elmer  (seizing  him  by  the  throat) .  Too  late !  too 
late  !  Dog,  you  must  die. 

Bosworth.     Take  off  your  hand  !     (Struggle.) 

Ruth(L.).  Elmer,  forbear.  (ELMER and  BOSWORTH, 
who  have  been  struggling,  pause  with  their  hands  on  each 
other.)  Respect  my  father's  roof.  This  is  a  home  of 
peace,  let  no  unhallowed  deed  pollute  its  fair  fame. 
Thy  mother  is  an  angel  now ;  and  vengeance,  by  the 
will  of  heaven,  wields  its  own  power  in  the  guilty 
breast,  to  punish  and  destroy. 

Elmer.  You  are  right,  Ruth.  This  house  shall  be 
respected.  (Flings  BOSWORTH  back  R.)  Richard 
Cross,  the  girl  you  have  insulted  saves  }-ou  now  ;  but 
beware !  your  fate  is  sealed  whene'er  we  meet  again. 


OR,  OUR  BOYS  OF  1776. 

Bosworth.  And  yours  is  already  sealed.  (  Takes  a 
knife  from  his  bosom,  and  rushes  at  ELMER,  o.  ELMER 
steps  R.,  puts  up  his  left  arm,  and  receives  the  blow.) 

Elmer  (seizing  his  own  left  arm  with  fiis  right).  Ah ! 
(Staggers  to  R.) 

Bosworth  (running  up  to  door  L.)  Curse  the  luck! 
Yet,  though  my  hand  has  failed,  you  are  doomed. 
Fool,  you  know  me  not ;  I  did  strike  down  your  mother, 
and  I  glory  in  the  deed.  You  have  stepped  between 
me  and  the  woman  there ;  but  she  is  mine,  and  you 
this  night  shall  keep  your  mother  company.  (Exit 
door  in  fiat.) 

Ruth  (running  to  ELMER).  Thee  is  sorely  hurt, 
dear  Elmer. 

Elmer.  Nay,  'tis  but  a  scratch.  (Report  of  two 
guns  in  quick  succession  outside.)  Ah,  what's  that? 

Bosworth  (outside) .  Oh !  Fools,  you  have  slain  your 
leader. 

Elmer.  Even  so,  the  wretch  has  fallen  into  his  own 
trap.  You  were  right,  Ruth  :  vengeance  alone  belong- 
eth  to  Him.  (Enter  door  in  flat,  EPHRAIM  with  gun. 
ffe  stands  it  beside  window.) 

Ephraim.  Yea,  verily,  Friend  Bosworth  lieth  in  the 
road,  with  two  bullets  in  his  body ;  and,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  world's  people,  he  is  as  dead  as  a  door 
nail.  (Enter  R.,  PRUDENCE.  She  crosses  to  L.) 

Prudence.  What  on  earth  is  all  this  racket  about? 
(Enter  OBED,  L.,  followed  by  MRS.  S. ;  he  in  his  shirt 
sleeves;  she  with  a  short  nightdress  over  dark  petticoat, 
nightcap  on  her  head.) 

Obed.     Verily,  the  foe  is  upon  us. 


266  ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO; 

Mrs.  S.     Children,  what  does  this  mean? 

Elmer.  Simply,  Friend  Obed,  that  the  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothing,  known  to  you  as  Uriel  Bosworth,  has 
invaded  your  home  with  the  design  of  carrying  off  your 
daughter. 

Ruth.  Yea,  and  the  brave  Friend  Elmer  hath  de 
fended  thy  daughter  with  an  arm  of  power  and  a  heart 
of  steel. 

Obed.  Verily,  we  owe  thanks  to  our  brave  defender, 
and  our  daughter  will  prize  him  as  a  dear  friend. 

Elmer.  May  I  not  hope  to  find  a  warmer  place 
in  your  affections,  Ruth? 

Ruth.  Yea,  thee  is  so  brave  and  powerful  that  no 
place  thou  wishest  can  be  too  strong  for  thee. 

Obed.  Yea,  verily,  this  sounds  very  much  like  love 
(groans') .  What  will  the  Friends  say  ? 

Mrs.  S.  Never  thee  trouble  thyself  about  the 
Friends,  Obed.  The  young  people  will  settle  their 
affairs  without  their  aid. 

Ephraim  (L.).  Yea,  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be 
alone,  and  my  heart  warmeth  to  one  of  the  fair  sex 
among  the  world's  people. 

Obed  (c.).  Thou,  Ephraim?  Profanation  upon  pro 
fanation.  (Groans.) 

Ephraim.  Yea,  I  have  been  taught  the  rules  of  war 
by  her,  and  with  her  I  would  walk  the  flowery  paths  of 
peace.  Her  name  is  Prudence,  and  her  features  are 
comely. 

Prudence.  Well,  I  never !  And  you  sacked  me  an 
hour  ago. 

Ephraim.  Yea,  and  in  sackcloth  and  ashes  have  I 
repented. 


OR,  OUR   BOYS  OF   1776.  287 

Obed.  Verily,  this  is  too  much.  We  shall  all  he 
disowned.  (Groans.)  We  would  give  our  lamb  to  the 
sacrifice,  and  now  — 

Mrs.  S.  Verily,  Obed,  we  might  as  well  be  hung  for 
a  sheep  as  a  lamb. 

Obed.     Yea,  verily.     (Groans.) 

(Distant  fife  and  drum  heard;  distant  report  of  mus 
ketry,  with  cheers  and  ringing  of  bells. ) 

Ginger  (outside).  Hooray!  hooray!  (runs  in  door 
in  flat}.  D'ye  hear  dat?  Dey's  gone  and  done  it. 
Yas  indeed.  Down  dar  to  Filledel.  Dey's  'dopted  de 
declamation  of  jurisprudence  ;  an' — '  an  —  de  country 
am  free.  Yas  it  am.  By  golly,  1's  gwine  to  make  one 
explosion.  (Runs  to  window,  throws  it  up,  takes  gun, 
points  it  out,  and  fires;  gun  kicks  him  over  onto  floor.) 
We'se  free  !  we'se  free  ! 

Pretzel  (outside).  Oh,  mine  gracious,  mine  het  pes 
plown  into  der  mittle  of  der  week  pefore  next.  (En 
ters  door  in  flat  holding  on  to  his  head.) 

Ginger.  Golly,  dat  ar  Tuchman's  for  ebber  and  ebber 
lay  in'  round  loose. 

Pretzel  (comes  down).  Mine  het  is  full  of  pullets, 
unt  mine  pniins  is  full  of  mine  poots. 

Ginger.  Yah,  yah  !  dat  ain't  nuffln,  Massa  Pretzel ; 
dat's  only  a  salute  (goes  down  extreme  L.). 

Pretzel  (goes  down  R.).  Salute?  Dot's  vat  you  call 
him.  He  purn  my  eyeprows  off  mit  his  nonsense.  Dot 
is  no  goot. 

Ginger.  Burn  your  eyebrows  off;  yah,  }-ah  !  Yas, 
so  you  can  see  de  glorious  orb  of  liberty  breaking  - 

Pretzel.  Yaw,  let  him  preak ;  he  don't  owe  me 
sometings  pretty  much. 


New  Farces   and  Comedies 
GADSBY'S     GIRLS 

A  Farce  in  Three  Acts 

By  Bertha  Currier  Porter 

Five  males,  four  females.  Costumes  modern  ;  scenery,  an  exterior  and 
an  interior.  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  An  exceptionally  bright  and 
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tures  with  the  fiancees  of  three  of  his  friends  are  full  of  interest  and  fun. 
All  the  parts  good.  Well  suited  for  High  School  performance. 
Price,  25  cents 

CHARACTERS 

RICHARD  STANLEY,  a  lawyer. 

JOSEPH  PARKER,  a  clerk. 

MORRIS  YOUNG,  a  medical  student. 

STEVE,  the  farm  boy.      Friendly,  but  not  loquacious. 

MABEL  PARKINS,  frivolous  and  dressy  ;  engaged  to  Richard. 

ESTHER  CARROLL,  botanical  and  birdy  ;  engaged  to  Joseph. 

GRACE  CHESTER,  just  girl;  engaged  to  Morris. 

MRS.  DODGE,  who  takes  boarders. 

MAXIMILIAN  HUNNEWELL  GADSBY,  a  butterfy. 

THE  GIRL  WHO  PAID  THE  BILLS 
A  Comedy  in  One  Act 

By  Nina  Rhoades 

Two  males,  four  females.  Costumes  modern  ;  scene,  an  easy  interior. 
Plays  thirty-five  minutes.  A  clever  piece  of  high  class,  admirably  written 
and  suited  to  the  best  taste.  A  pretty  little  love  story,  wholesome  and  un 
sentimental  in  tone.  Well  recommended. 

Price,  15  cents 

THE  FIFTH  COMMANDMENT 

A  Play  in  One  Act 

By  Willis  Steell 

Three  males,  one  female.  Costumes  modern;  scene,  an  interior. 
Plays  twenty  minutes.  An  easy  piece  of  strong  dramatic  interest,  origi 
nally  produced  in  Vaudeville  by  Julius  Steger.  Free  to  amateurs  j  royalty 
required  for  professional  performance. 

Price,  75*  cents 


50 


THE  MAGISTRATE  ; 

females.    Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  all 
interior.    Plays  two  hours  and  a  half. 

THE  NOTORIOUS  MRS.  EBBSMITP  !?"""•  ,in  j 

Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  all  interiors     PI 

THF  PROFI  IfiATF    ^ay  ^  Four  Actn    oeven  males,  five  females. 
UMUA1L,    gceneryi  three  interiors,  rather  elaborate; 
costumes,  modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

Farce  in  Three  .v  seven 

fein.lUs  Costu 

three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SECOND  MRS.  TANQUERAY 


. 

tumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

SWFFT  I  AVFNDFB    Comedy  In  Three  Acts.    Seven  males. 
JTTCC1   IWULUULR    fema]es    Scene,  a  single  in  t 

modern.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THF  TIMFS    Coinedy  ln  Four  Acts-    six  ma^s.  seven  females. 

Scene,  a  single  interior;  costume.-, 
full  evening. 

THF  WFAIfFD  SFY  :u  Three  Acts.    Eight  n 

IUC    nCAIVCft  JCA    f  n 

Interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

A  WIFE  WITHOUT  A  SMILE       * 


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